


All I want for Christmas...is for it to be over

by clarryt, jada_the_beta



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Americanised British Harry, Annoying Martha, Blink and you'll miss it, Chef Harry, Christmas Fluff, Dirty Dancing, Doctor Who reference, Dramatic Louis OFC, Duplex, Fluff and Humor, Football Player Louis, Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson are Neighbours, Harry's ice skating incident in the Night Changes MV, Holly Davidson - Freeform, M/M, Mistletoe, Movie Reference, Mutual Pining, Neighbours to Lovers, No Smut, RBB, Ridiculous amount of Christmas jargon and puns, Scrooge Louis, Secret Santa, Shared wall, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing, also I can't believe there's no RBB tag yet, bogo - Freeform, but slight fantasy references, fruitcakes, gingerbread cookies, larry stylinson - Freeform, lots of swearing, scented candles, slightly inspired by Skipping Christmas, whisking, winter skate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-13 08:24:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12980058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarryt/pseuds/clarryt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jada_the_beta/pseuds/jada_the_beta
Summary: Louis hated Christmas, had hated it from the very young age of six. That’s why he didn’t think twice when he booked a flight to America prior to his actual moving day -- so he could skip Christmas in his hometown. Enter Harry Styles, the Christmas-loving chef that lives next door to Louis’ new ‘home away from home.’ Chaos ensued as Louis devised a plan to sabotage his pretentious neighbour; a self proclaimed ‘fellow Brit’ that America had chewed up and shat out as a Christmas-loving, Santa-banging elf that probably sneezed out snowflakes and wore garland as a boa while whistling ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ as he baked gingerbread cookies.Expect an awful lot of Christmas puns, ugly Christmas jumpers, scented candles and gingerbread cookies. Featuring Holly Davidson, RBB and Larry Stylinson, not as what you thought they would be.





	All I want for Christmas...is for it to be over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [otfuckingp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/otfuckingp/gifts).



> To otfuckingp, thank you for your wonderful prompt. Although, I may have swerved a little bit with the direction of the story. I hope you will still enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> I was struggling to meet the 4k word count in the first month that I started writing this, but it just spiraled into a 26k fic like it had a mind of its own and decided to write itself. So I would like to take this opportunity to thank the wonderful people that had inspired and helped me through this journey: 
> 
> My orion - Without you, I wouldn't be able to write anything past "Louis met Harry. They kissed and lived happily ever after." Thank you for not just being the inspiration, my muse, but also the very reason that I was able to finally write 'The End'. 
> 
> My #1 fan - You made me do this, and I couldn't thank you enough for pushing me! You're a legend, I hope you know that. Thanks for always being there and having my back...even when I'm a pain in the arse.
> 
> My wonderful beta - You are amazing, you truly are! Thank you for doing your last minute magic to make this baby presentable. I want you to know, that I truly appreciate you.
> 
> My sister from another mister - You are someone I didn't expect and think I needed in my life. I just want you to know that I'm very honoured to have you in it now. Thank you for being you and for providing a safe space for me to be myself.  
>    
> ~ I hope you all like it! I had so much fun writing this with my Gellyfish. The amount of sleep I lost pales in comparison to the value of the friendship I have made. I will never forget one moment of this whole experience, especially the role-play parts. ;) Enjoy everyone!~ 
> 
> ___
> 
> To you my dearest reader, I present to you, my first ever Larry fic, my baby. Have fun! I would really appreciate it if you leave comments and kudos, it's nourishment to my baby. I entrust my baby's life unto thee. Please don't let this baby perish. 
> 
> ___
> 
> I just want to set things straight, straight as a cooked spaghetti, that this is a work of fiction and even though the names are of real people, there is in no way this had ever happened. Also, I don't own One Direction, I am but a mere fan.

#####  _24 November 2017 (Friday)_

Louis hated Christmas. His contempt had grown exceedingly out of control as it seemed like the said holiday just kept getting earlier every year. It didn’t help at all that he decided to leave his beloved country to pursue a greener pasture in this unfamiliar territory, only to be welcomed by the swarming hordes of people that were rushing back and forth in the airport terminal in the wee hours of the morning.

The scene in the lobby was total madness, to say the least, which added to Louis’ foul mood. Why had he chosen to fly the day after Thanksgiving? In his defense, even though his agent asked him more than a few of times if he was sure about his date selection, he couldn’t have fathomed the whole deal about American Thanksgiving. The fact that he chose the day _after_ the holiday should be considered a reasonable decision, right? Well, he was wrong.

A huge Christmas tree was right smack in the middle of the platform in the Denver International Airport. It was the busiest section in the airport, and the powers that be decided to place it right there. They must have had the most topnotch airport architects and designers working for them to come up with this ingenious plan. And, _where had this throng of people come from?_ Louis found the answer the moment he stepped out onto the terminal’s open-air plaza. It was quite hard to believe, what appeared in front of him -- a skating rink, at the airport? _Could anything be more absurd than this?_ Louis decided to preserve his energy and spare them the trouble. As much as he would love for his mind to be heard, it was only six in the morning and he just had a sleepless twelve hour flight, absolutely not worth pushing himself further in his current fowl mood. The thought added severe pain to his already aching head, Christmas was bound to torture him! Oh God, what had he gotten himself into?

He tried to recall the last time he took part in Christmas and actually enjoyed it -- not wishing that the world would end right that very second, when a waving hand appeared in his line of sight. His eyes focused on a pale skinned man with blonde hair atop its growing brown roots, flashing him a toothy smile. The other hand held a blue card that bore his name and a sloppily drawn smiley face with a tongue hanging out.

“Tommo!!! It’s me, Niall Horan! Your agent!” Niall jumped from his spot to make his presence known from the mass of people shoving past Louis.

He shook his head in mock shame at his agent’s antics, _as if_ he wouldn't recognise him. They had, after all, known each other for the largest part of Louis’ football career. At least the drive to his new home wouldn't be boring, although he really hoped he could capture a few winks during the ride to his new living quarters so he could calm himself from the morning chaos.

“Niall.” Louis extended his hand but the man pulled him into a crushing bear hug, tapping his back so vigorously that Louis coughed and felt his lungs almost drop.

“Welcome to America lad! We’re gonna have tons of fun, especially this Christmas season.” Niall’s eyes beamed with excitement. Louis followed him as he grabbed Louis’ luggage and turned on his heels as he headed for the front terminal. Once they arrived, the agent opened the car door for him and loaded his suitcases in the boot.

“You’re gonna love your new home. It’s perfect!” Niall shouted as he came back from behind the car.

The door slammed shut in Louis’ face before he could even utter a response.

Niall, thankfully, sat in the front passenger’s seat, leaving Louis in the back to himself. He listened as his agent gave the driver directions to Louis’ new home and informed Louis that he could take a quick nap, since the journey ‘home’ would take them roughly forty minutes. He was just about to close his eyes for some desired sleep when he heard Niall ask him a direct question.

 _So much for my nap,_ Louis grumbled internally.

“So, Louis, what are your plans for Christmas? I have quite a few ideas in mind. We can-”

“I’m skipping Christmas.” Louis voiced out his exasperation, cutting off Niall’s excitement. All he wanted was to have a quick nap before his head exploded.

“You’re skipping Christmas?! That’s very Rude-olph you!” Niall broke into his signature cackle  but schooled his expression afterwards.

“Isn’t that against the law?” The disgruntled agent asked when Louis did not respond.

Louis straightened his back and tilted his neck left and right before he proceeded to address Niall’s concern.

“Yeah, well, what could possibly happen? Christmas elves barge in my home, tie me up and hold me hostage while they transform my house into Santa’s den, baking cookies in my kitchen and blasting Christmas songs through my speakers until I give in? Don’t be a child, Neil. Christmas is an evil holiday, an absolute trick by the devil and corporations to manipulate people like you and everyone else, sadly, into buying overpriced things you don’t actually need.”

He stretched his arms until he heard a cracking sound and continued with his tirade, as a sardonic smile escaped his mouth.

“Christmas is overrated and excessively commercialised. The, what you call, ‘Spirit of Giving’ has become the ‘Spirit of Showing-Off.’ You can _give_ all the time, why do you need any excuses for that? You should just give gifts whenever you feel like and be merry and sing carols and hang Christmas lights whenever you want to.”

He finally let out a breath once he thought he had gotten his point across. Feeling wise and content, he laid his head on the cushioned back seat and closed his eyes hoping Niall would get a clue and leave him be.

If holidays were diseases, he thought to himself, Christmas would be the plague -- a fast-spreading, deadly pandemic. It's already taken over Thanksgiving, spread into New Year's, and has gone after Halloween, too. That's about one-third of the year, devoted to a perverse imitation of what used to be a religious holiday. So any disease specialist would advise to isolate yourself from those infected ones, and use harsh antibiotics to keep the plague from spreading any further. Louis would save mankind, and they could thank him later.

Like most cynics, Louis’ bitterness sprung out of a history of rotten luck. He once loved the Christmas season -- the lights, the gifts, the food, the socialising and basically all the merrymaking. Of course, he was six at the time. The same year Santa decided to stop coming by to deliver his presents. It may have been a coincidence to Louis’ six year-old self, but that was also the same year his dad left them. When he was fourteen, he tripped on a string of Christmas lights and broke his leg. He couldn't take part in the festivities and even worse it almost cost him his dreams of becoming the next David Beckham.

“Oi, we’re here!” Niall jarred Louis awake from the nightmare of his past Christmas mishaps playing on repeat in his sleep. He saw Niall standing outside the car with his arms outstretched towards a multi-family structure, eyebrows dancing and a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

“You have travelled through time and space, hurtled across countless years, viscerally and without control. Pushed, pulled and hurled through the universe at great cost. Stars have been born and died to forge the very fabric of your bones. And it has all brought you here...in this moment...in this place. This is your destiny Lou!”

_Well, someone sure was being dramatic._

“What are you on about, Doctor?” Louis asked as he let out a huge yawn.

“Welcome to Louisville! Tommo, it’s literally Louisville. Because you’re Louis and this is your new village. Louisville! Am I not a genius? I mean, I’m definitely no Doctor, but I am a genius!”

Instead of voicing his reply, Louis reached out to hit Niall upside his head. Louis couldn’t have been more thankful to have Niall around, and although he would be far from his family, he knew that the Irish lad had his back.

A cold autumn breeze grazed his face, distracting him from his reverie. He rummaged through his bag for his beanie and quickly fixed it on top of his caramel locks as he made his way out of the car to have a proper look of his surroundings.

“I'm staying there? All by myself? It’s bigger than I expected.”

“Don't be silly Lou. It’s a duplex. It looks big but you're basically sharing a wall with another lad. You share the same front yard too. Unless you want me to put up a fence over there.” Niall pointed somewhere along the middle of the front yard.

As Louis’ eyes followed the general direction of where Niall pointed, he found himself close to vomiting, and no, it wasn’t an overreaction nor was it jet lag. It was definitely because right in front of him was the most cliche scene he had ever seen. Synchronised lights to music playing what seemed like a Mariah Carey Christmas Special. There was already a snowman, wearing what looked like a black skirt, on the other side of the front yard, probably his neighbours with a big family. No. This could not be happening to him. All he wanted was some peace and quiet. That's why he left his hometown earlier this year even though training didn’t start until January -- so he could skip Christmas! He did not expect it to follow him across the ocean. This holiday season was already getting on his nerves and it wasn’t even December yet.

Drowned in his thoughts and the overwhelming repugnance towards Christmas, Louis didn't notice anyone approaching until he heard boisterous laughter coming not just from one cheerful and Christmas-loving person, but now _two_.

“Tommo, come meet Harry, your neighbour!” Niall snapped him out of his thoughts, too loud for the morning. _When has Niall been less than loud though_ , Louis thought.  

“Hi, I'm Harry Styles. Nice to meet you. Glad to have a fellow Brit as my neighbour. Niall has told me so much about you,” said the man as he stretched his arm to shake Louis’ hand.  

The chocolate waves that crowned his head caught the light in the way that made him look angelic. He squinted through his breathtaking and contagious smile with foliage green eyes begging for Louis to reciprocate. It was a struggle for Louis not to break from the stiff façade he had decided to pull off that morning. You see, he was not easily persuaded. Well, he used to be, but not anymore, not since he learned the truth about Santa. He decided on what he could only imagine looked like an awkward smile that bordered between constipated and sinister as he attempted to introduce himself.

“Hi. Louis. Tomlinson. I'm Louis Tomlinson.” He shook the man’s hand as he stuttered his reply. _Hm, strong grip_ , he thought to himself. And no, he did not stutter. It was definitely because he had just woken up.

The beautiful creature standing in front of him had absolutely nothing to do with it. His sharp jaw, which could probably cut onions, did nothing to Louis’ already flipping guts. Louis refrained from imagining how this boy, or, well, _man_ , would look if he let his curly hair grow out past his ears and let it flow over his shoulders. Louis unglued his ocean blue eyes from the man when he realised he had been staring longer than society’s standards deemed appropriate. He saw the way Harry’s mouth open and closed as if he were speaking to him, and had to put extra effort to drown his overactive thoughts and refocus on what the other man was trying to say.

“Yeah. Um.” Louis nodded but realised he didn’t know exactly what he was agreeing to. “What did you say?” Asked Louis but it sounded more exasperated than inquisitive, and he knew it was too late for him to start out on the right foot.

“I said, welcome to _Louisville_ , Louis.” Harry awkwardly coughed trying to hide his giggles at his poorly executed pun.

Louis noticed it, of course, but didn’t react. The irony wasn’t totally lost on him.

“Oh, and um, as a Brit welcoming fellow Brits, it would be my pleasure to host your first dinner in the city tonight.” Harry offered the dinner invitation with a huge smile, as crater-sized dimples overtook his cheeks.

Louis looked up to Harry, literally looked up, he must have had at least five inches on him, and reevaluated the man before him.

“You do know that our lad over here’s Irish, yeah?” Came another saucy remark from Louis. He bit his tongue and scolded himself internally. He was really bad at making good first impressions.

“Bollix, Lou! Harry’s invited us for dinner at the RBB. Do you think I care about where he thinks I’m from? I heard they make the best Eggs Benedict in the city and their pastries are to die for! I could be a Brit for one night.” Niall imitated Louis’ accent to emphasise his point.

“RBB?” Louis inquired, puzzled by how quickly Niall jerked his head towards him at such a break-neck speed, as if this was information that Louis was already supposed to know.

“Yeah, the Rolling Boulder Bistro!” Niall exclaimed. “Your new neighbour here owns the place and he's just invited us for dinner. It's a yes from me Harry. And I didn't plan anything for Tommo tonight, so he's available.” Niall declared, looking at Louis with pleading puppy dog eyes.

Louis glared at Niall, but before he could even think of protesting against dinner, Harry flustered him again, for the _second_ time, as he placed his hand on Louis’ shoulder as he was bidding him goodbye. Louis felt a tingle through the many layers of his clothing and a gentle tug in his belly. It could be the nausea still subsiding from all of the dancing lights on Harry’s side of the duplex, but Louis liked this feeling. It was… Warm and fuzzy. Just like the feeling he used to get on Christmas Eve, when everyone would huddle before the fireplace in their best ugly Christmas jumpers that Nan knitted especially for the occasion. It’s almost like reliving special moments he had long buried deep in the back of his head, certain he had no use for them ever again.

“Okay, well, I gotta go. I'll see you guys tonight?” Harry questioned.

Louis felt the warmth slowly drain away. When he realised that Harry's simple touch caused him an immediate fond flashback, he instantly, and physically, tried to shake it off. In fact, he started to shiver so frantically that his feet slipped in the snow slush and he started to lose his footing as gravity relentlessly pulled him downward. But before he fell to his demise, Harry was there with his large, strong hands, steadying him around the waist.

“Oops, be careful there! The sidewalk can get slippery, especially this time of year when the snow gets slushy.”

Louis’ eyebrow arched so high it almost touched his scalp. He started to question the charm Harry had impressed upon him a few minutes ago.

“ _Excuse me_ , what did you just say?”

“I said the sidewalk tends to get slippery.” Harry repeated himself but was interrupted with Louis’ hand waving in front of his face followed up by a snarky remark.

“I heard you, Harold. Have you been in America so long that you’ve forgotten that it’s actually called _pavement_?!” Louis’ eyes rolled so far back in his head that he swore he saw his brain.

Deep vertical lines formed between Harry’s brows. His nose scrunched up, lips bitten to hold back a smile but when it finally made its appearance, it transformed his face with a boyish expression of fondness. He blinked rapidly and opened and closed his mouth a few times as he tried to find something to say. Instead, he settled on tousling his perfectly mussed up hair which he probably spent a good amount of time to achieve in the first place. He coughed awkwardly and waved his hand at the parked lavender Honda HR-V, and quickly ran for his exit, completely brushing off Louis’ rudeness.

As he stumbled away, Louis heard him mumble something that sounded an awful lot like _‘Smooth Harry, real smooth.’_

___

Niall left shortly after giving Louis a tour of his new ‘home away from home,’ so he could get ready and pick up his date for their dinner. Louis tried to explain to Niall that Harry was only being polite and didn’t actually expect them to come to dinner. So he reassured his disappointed agent that he would drive around the neighbourhood and find the nearest grocer, buy a few things to help get him settled and grab dinner by himself.

Louis later managed to placate Niall with a good deal. “We’ll get dinner at that place, RBB, some time next week. Happy?” This earned Louis a thirty-second hug and a sloppy wet kiss on both cheeks.

He must have slept longer than the quick nap he wanted because he was woken up by a rhythmical knock on his door that sounded like the tune to Jingle Bells. He quickly unlocked his phone to check the time and was surprised to see that it was already half past nine in the evening. His internal clock was all messed up, _good job Tommo!_ Another set of knocks came as he was walking towards the door. _Wasn’t it too early for Christmas carolers?_ God, he hated carols. But then again, this shouldn’t be a surprise to him at all. This whole suburb seemed to be stuck in a Christmas snow globe. He let out a sigh and willed himself to answer the door just so he could tell them off.

He wasn't expecting an angel. Wait, no, it must have been the streetlights creating a halo behind the curly haired man, boy, _man-boy_ with the pair of emerald eyes. Louis must have still been dreaming. He refrained from reaching out to poke at the dimples playing at the corners of Harry's pink smile.

“Louis! Hi! I was wondering why you…” Harry paused halfway through his sentence which made Louis even more frustrated until he noticed that his own index finger was awkwardly hanging in midair right in front of Harry’s face. “I, um, I waited for you at the restaurant but I realised you might be too exhausted to drop by so I packed you a dinner instead. It’s this week’s special menu item. I call it the Roasted Christmas Medley.” Harry smirked as he watched Louis slowly lower his hand back down to his side and tuck his fingers into the pocket of his trousers.

“Why thank you, Harold. That’s... very nice of you.” Louis balled his fist in an attempt to calm himself down. He would not give in to the charms of his pretentious neighbour; a self proclaimed ‘fellow Brit’ that America had chewed up and shat out as a Christmas-loving, Santa-banging elf that probably sneezed out snowflakes and wore garland as a boa while whistling ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ as he baked gingerbread cookies.

“I hope there's nothing in here that you wouldn't eat.” Louis snapped after dampening the slowly creeping annoyance building up in his gut.

“Hey no, I made this myself!” Harry humbly confessed, if there was proudness in his tone, his bashful smile compensated. “I would definitely eat it. Well, except for the green olives. I hate olives.” Harry explained to Louis how much he detested olives but that didn’t stop him from adding it in his other recipes. “What I dislike eating, doesn’t mean other people have to miss out on.” He continued by saying that he would never sabotage a good dish based on his own dislike for a particular ingredient or two.

Louis just stood there and gawked at Harry while trying to understand why he found him such a nuisance even though he seemed to possess a good natured character. The corner of Louis' top lip pulled up into a bit of a grimace and he caught himself staring, unblinking for what felt like an entire minute. When he finally managed to come to his senses, he vowed to himself that he would make it his mission to expose the real Harry, because the person in front of him was just too good to be true. He couldn’t just possibly be all sunshine, rainbows and free dinner delivery, surely something devious lay behind his celestial image.

“I'd love for us to chat a little more but I'm absolutely knackered and I'm sure you are too. See you around.” Louis wanted to close the door and get on with his life but one thing his mum taught him was to be courteous and polite at all times, no matter what.

“And Harry, thank you,” he quickly tacked on, not waiting for Harry to respond before shutting the door.

It was probably the best ‘Roasted Christmas Medley’ he had ever eaten, but in all honesty, he had nothing to compare it with. To Louis, he simply just had a good dinner, which might be considered a mediocre compensation for this atrocious day.

 

* * *

 

#####  _25 November 2017 (Saturday)_

_Louis was 13 when his mum put him in charge of the twins, Phoebe and Daisy. He was also asked to look after the gingerbread cookies in the oven. His mum’s instructions were simple: when the timer went off, turn off the oven and take the cookies out. She was just going to fetch Lottie and Fizzy from their Christmas caroling practice, so she wouldn't be gone long anyway. It was also, by happenstance, the same day that he got a copy of FIFA 2004. He could only do one or two things, at most, at the same time and his priorities were a little out of order at the age of 13. And let's just say that his main priority on this particular day, was to beat Ronaldinho in PS2. His mum arrived home to a scene of crying twins left to themselves, smoke barreling out of the kitchen, and Louis hurling the baking tray under the running faucet to unstick the burned cookies._

It was a sunny day, thank goodness! Louis decided to explore the neighbourhood and check out how long it would take him to drive from his place to the Dick's Sporting Goods Park, the home of his new football team, the Colorado Rapids. He was contemplating what to wear when he heard the familiar rhythmical knock coming from downstairs. He quickly dressed himself with whatever he could grab from the closet that was within his arm's reach. He didn’t even have the time to check himself in the mirror but managed to get a quick glance of a purple windbreaker and black tracksuit bottoms. He shrugged to himself, _that should do it,_ and quickly ran down the staircase with too much enthusiasm, gasping for breath as he reached to yank the door open.

“Morning Louis! I made some gingerbread cookies for the HOA meeting later this afternoon. I was a tad bit excited and I think I might have overdone it, so there’s some extras. Would you like some? Please, I don’t want them go to waste.” Harry’s face exploded with a radiant smile, when he finally paused after his panicked outburst and gulped for air. He was holding a wicker basket full of gingerbreadman cookies decorated with royal icing and neatly placed inside.

“Hey, slow down, Curly! We’ve got all the time in the world. Well, not _all_ the time, but most of it. You get my point. I’m really not a fan of gingerbread cookies. Also, what’s Haitch-O-A?” A look of confusion clouded Louis’ face.

Harry gave Louis a once-over and answered, “It’s the Homeowner’s Association?”

“Are you telling me or asking me?” Louis quipped as his eyes scrutinised the basket in Harry’s hand.

“I’m telling you. Come on Louis, just try the cookies. Just give them a try and they'll speak for themselves. Please.” Harry insisted, batting his eyelashes as he shoved past Louis and stepped into the house uninvited, and shut the door.

The strong aroma of cinnamon wafted through Louis’ nostrils, begging him to give in. “Fine, I'm just gonna try one!" As he lifted the cookie and bit the head off angrily, all hell broke loose in his mouth. However, on the contrary the cookies tasted like heaven. He heard a choir of angels stirring hymns and harping harmonies with explosions of sugar and cinnamon inside his mouth, amidst the chaos in his mind.

Harry smiled from ear to ear, smugly satisfied and pleased with Louis’ appreciation with the low moans that escaped his lips with every bite.

“Oh, and by the way, it would be wonderful if you could come to the meeting later?” Harry blurted out hesitantly. “The rest of the neighbourhood would love to welcome you into the community,” he followed up ardently, eyes glistened with hope.

Louis rummaged around and dug deep into his brain as he tried to come up with an excuse to duck out of this 'community meeting’ because the only thing that came close to his hatred for Christmas, were gatherings just like this one.

“I’m actually heading out soon and might not be able to make it back in time. You see, I’ll be driving around so I can get used to the neighbourhood and the journey back and forth to the stadium, so I might be late. You probably shouldn’t wait on me.”

“That sounds perfect actually,” Harry countered. “What a better way to get you familiarised with the whole neighbourhood, than this meeting. Everyone will be there!”

And, _dammit_ , that was the worse idea his brain had thought of.

“I’ll see what I can do Harry and let you know.” Louis raised his wrist higher than a normal person would to check the time. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t notice Louis’ exaggerated movements as he was busy fishing around in his pockets for something, and after finding what he was searching for, offered Louis his phone.

“Do you mind if we exchange numbers? I just worry that you might lose track of time or get lost along the way. At least, you can call me if you’re running late or get lost, or I could call you? It’s always good to have your neighbour’s number, you know. In case of, uh, an emergency.” Harry smiled coyly, avoiding eye contact as he chewed on his bottom lip.

Louis was dumbstruck. _How did we get here so fast, already exchanging numbers?_ He thumbed his number into Harry’s phone, though it was against his will, but, after all, he was raised by his mum to be a proper gentleman. He passed Harry’s phone back to him and Harry quickly called him up so that Louis had his number too.

“Alright then, thanks for the cookies Haz. I need to keep moving if you want me to make it to this ‘community meeting’.” Louis was taken aback by the slip of the nickname. He was sure it was only because he spoke hastily. He quickly grabbed the basket of gingerbread cookies Harry had been holding, which prompted a startled look on Harry’s face.

Louis noticed the change in the curly lad’s expression. He was showing that soft, fond look again. Only then did Louis notice what he was wearing: a turquoise short-sleeved buttoned up shirt with tropical trees printed on it, a peachy scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, brown chelsea boots, and by the looks of it, black jeans that were painted on. Louis definitely checked him out but noticed that Harry looked like he was dressed for warmer weather.

“How’s the weather out?” Louis attempted to head off the impending awkwardness.

"Oh, um, it’s about thirty degrees. Quite pleasant weather actually for this time of year. So, um. I won’t keep you any longer. See you later, Louis.” Harry said his goodbye as he bashfully looked at his feet.

Louis yanked the door open and shoved Harry outside the quickest he could manage, his hand already absorbing the other man’s body heat from the simple touch.

“Sure, see ya later Curly!” Louis shouted and waited for Harry to cross his part of the yard before closing the door.

___

After Harry left, Louis re-evaluated his outfit situation and decided to change into a black tank top and skinny jeans. He wasn’t expecting the bracing weather with nippy wind piercing through his skin and organs when he stepped outside. He was not going to let Harry get away with this, giving him the wrong weather forecast. He would make him pay.

He arrived at the community clubhouse, following Harry’s directions, but drove a couple more times around the block and turned left twice when he was supposed to turn right. He saw Harry coated up and dressed for the chilly weather. Louis glared at him.

“Thirty degrees my arse, it’s fucking freezing out here!” Louis cursed loudly. _People who use Fahrenheit should be condemned in hell for all eternity._ He was sure that if looks could kill, Harry would already be buried three metres under the ground.

As it turned out, this whole 'community meeting' was to actually welcome Louis to the neighbourhood. Harry ushered him inside the clubhouse, towards the platform and was told to introduce himself to everyone.

“I am Louis Tomlinson, son of England, hailing from the land of Doncaster, South of Yorkshire.” He was absolutely stunned, he did not know where that came from. Louis saw Harry’s shoulder vibrating as he tried to stifle his laughter. He then proceeded to talk, he presumed, in a more acceptable manner as he shared the reason why he had to move to America.

“I used to play football for the Doncaster Rovers in my hometown, before I was offered a spot to play as a defender for the Colorado Rapids.” The crowd, no less than twenty, cheered and whistled before him, hands pumping up towards the ceiling, some were even applauding earnestly. He bowed his head and tipped his imaginary hat but before he could step down off the platform, Harry was already shaking his hand, while the other hand rested upon Louis’ shoulder to keep him in his spot.

“And now, for the question and answer!” Harry announced to everyone after the rest of the community made their brief introductions. If brief meant talking about what they love the most about Christmas or citing the names of their children, then Louis didn’t want to hear an extensive and more elaborate introduction, _thank you very much._ Harry kept his eyes boring into Louis' and Louis could only hope his own eyes were returning the stare with a message of _what are you doing_. Harry returned his silent question with a bright smile. Louis cursed him on the inside but surprise, confusion and fond competed with each other not to show on his face. He was then asked trivial questions such as, ‘How do you find Louisville and America so far?’ and ‘What are your allergies?’ and ‘How many siblings do you have?’ and with each answer he, strangely, earned applause.

And lastly, “Are you single Louis? Would you mind dating my daughter?” inquired by someone so curious about Louis’ personal life that he doubted they had anything better to do than gossip all day.

Louis’ head snapped up, neck muscles tightening as he scanned the crowd until his eyes finally landed on a woman whom he recalled was named Martha. _She’s definitely a Martha_ , Louis thought as he pursed his lips. “I _do_ mind, actually, Martha…” Louis answered in a matter-of-fact tone, followed by “Unless you have a son?” he winked and settled his face by holding a smirk in the corner of his mouth.

Louis deliberately avoided looking Harry’s way, but he still saw from his peripheral vision, the relieved smile that flashed across Harry’s face.

Unfortunately, the meeting did not end when he finally stepped down. Turned out, he wasn’t _that_ much of a VIP. The committee, Harry obviously a part of it, discussed their Kris Kringle Mingle and the themes for their Secret Santa Gift Exchange. Louis was not to be blamed when he zoned out the moment he heard them mention Christmas lights. It was overall a draining day, one that he most likely wouldn't have taken part of if it hadn’t been for Harry’s insistence.

 

* * *

 

#####  _2 December 2017 (Saturday)_

_Louis was 15 when he was accidentally outed to his nan by a fruitcake. Louis couldn’t possibly understand the obsession with Christmas fruitcakes. Who would want to eat something that smells that horrible? His idea of a fruitcake was something more like a strawberry cream cake, not something that resembled a brick with dried fruits that looked like gummy candies but instead tasted more like wax candles. He could only think of one use for a fruitcake, and that was to toss through a deserving person’s window and at that time it was his mortal enemy slash best friend, Becky. She came over to Louis’ house one afternoon and they were hanging out in the kitchen and she mentioned something about fruitcakes tasting just like Louis’ taste towards the female gender, awful and unacceptable. Unbeknownst to Louis, his nan was crouched down behind the kitchen counter._

The telly was not helping at all. Every single show or news channel was still droning on about Thanksgiving or airing Christmas specials or black and white movies. Thanksgiving, his newly despised holiday, was in fact, now over. It wasn’t even December yet and they were already showing ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ in the morning! Louis picked up his phone to check the date; he had been holed up in his house since that dreadful ‘community meeting’ and had lost track of the days -- his way to keep from bumping into people outside the comforts of his own home. Louis was in the middle of scanning through his calendar and as it turned out it _was_ December already, when a young lad with blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a crooked smile flashed on Louis’ screen.

Louis answered the call with,“You have reached 1-800-Cancel-Christmas-now! To join me and ditch your greek god of a boyfriend, press 1, otherwise, please hang up. Have the courage lad, it’s not too late!”

 _“Well if it isn’t old Scrooge himself. You’re no fun Tommo. What am I going to do with you?”_ Niall huffed a breath that sounded more like a surrender.

Louis shifted his phone, tucking it in between his left ear and shoulder.

“Awww my dear guardian angel, leprechaun, whatever you are, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine on my own.” Louis’ mouth formed a thin line when the last words he uttered reverberated in his head. _On. My. Own._

 Niall sighed in defeat.

 " _I just…I worry about you Lou. Mostly because you tend to stick your head up your arse, and without me around, who’s gonna help you pull it out?”_

“And that, my dear Nialler, is why you should hang up now. I don’t want to spoil your favourite holiday, alright? Now off you go, I can already imagine Zayn’s handsome face scowling at you right now. Don’t let me make you miss your flight back to Dublin or be the reason you guys break up!”

Niall said something about his relationship with Zayn being like the Titanic before it sank, _unsinkable_. Louis was preparing to berate Niall about his poor choice of comparison but he was distracted by the most god awful song ever written and recorded, blasting through his walls.

_Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock_

_Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring_

"I swear to god, if I hear another Jingle Bell I'm going to burn this whole neighbourhood down." Louis hissed, slamming his hand on the coffee table causing his cuppa to wobble and spill. “I have to go Ni. I have some terrorising to do.”

_"Is the beautiful curly Santa man-boy rubbing Christmas all over you again?”_

"He’s beautiful alright, but he’s also the most annoying angel dressed as Santa’s helper sent to make my life miserable.” Louis clenched his jaw.

_Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time_

_Dancing and prancing in Jingle Bell Square…_

 “For Christ’s sake!” Louis really wanted to strangle someone, the constant repetition of the lines grated on his nerves.

 " _Fine I’ll leave you be. See you on Boxing Day! Have fun and oh, don’t drool!”_

Louis bit the insides of his cheeks and ended the call before Niall could say anymore crap about Louis’ adoration towards his charmingly handsome neighbour, which was nothing but an absurd allegation. So Louis set off and marched across the yard to the other side without hesitation, schooling his facial expression to the most sinister look he could muster.

He slammed his balled up fist against the wooden door, shaking the fresh pine cone and berry covered wreath, making it's little golden bell embellishments jingle as he pounded a few more times until he heard footsteps closing in.

He was greeted by a smiling Harry. "Louis? Is there something wrong? You’re a bit early..."

“Early for?” Louis snarled back. That must have caught Harry off guard because he drew his lips tight and his face went anxious as he focused his eyes on the ground.

Louis drew his eyes from Harry’s dejected face and scanned the man from head to toe. Harry was wearing an apron with a woman’s hourglass figure in a Santa bikini outfit printed on it and on his both hands were Santa mittens. If Louis had any doubts before, he was now convinced that Harry could probably be one of Santa’s elves or even Santa himself, the one he had been fearful of the moment he stepped out on the airport terminal.

He cleared his throat, grimacing at the gorgeous, giant elf in front of him. It may have looked like he had forgotten what he came here for in the first place, since he was gawking at Harry, but then he refocused and heard that infernal Jingle Bell song coming from inside of his neighbour's house.

“Jingle Bells, really? What does it even mean? Everybody gets together and straps jingle bells to their bodies and dances? Dumbest. Song. Ever!”

Harry’s pained expression transformed into a cheek reddened smile as he looked up. Louis blinked one too many times, trying to comprehend how this beautiful creature in front of him could be this pretty and this annoying at the same time.

“Well, actually the name of the song is Jingle Bell Rock and it’s by Brenda Lee. But um, never mind. Sorry, didn’t notice how loud it was. That was very inconsiderate of me. I’m really sorry, I’ll turn it down for you." Harry’s voice trailed off.

And Louis really didn't need to know that. He couldn’t care less what his handsome neighbour was up to but he would gladly stand there all day to drown in Harry's deep, syrupy voice. His thoughts were interrupted with an awkward cough from Harry.

"Anyway, I was saying... You’re too early for the Kris Kringle Mingle. Buuut..” Harry dragged out the word before he continued, “If you’re not doing anything, I’m actually baking cookies and would absolutely appreciate another set of hands.”

Louis’ eyes twitched by the mere mention of _hands_ and the thought of Harry needing his. He shook his head, willing the unwanted thoughts away as he clenched his teeth, enhancing his prominent jaw line.

"Kris Kringle Mingle? It's literally the first week of December, Harold. Aren't we getting too excited for some overrated holiday?" Louis huffed his irritation and entirely avoided answering Harry’s invitation.

“But it’s a tradition, Louis. You sound like you’re not a big fan of Christmas.” Harry said in a disappointed tone, frowning and lips pouting.

"The biggest anti-fan actually. Well, good luck with your party. I would really appreciate it if you would keep the celebration to yourselves. And by that I mean, I want nothing to do with it."

Louis didn’t wait to hear Harry’s response, because he was sure that if he looked at him, his insides would turn into a pile of mush. Instead, he turned around and stomped through the snow covered grass on Harry’s front lawn. He gave the snowman a side eye as he walked passed it and tried to recall where he placed the slip of paper he drew out of the fishbowl during the ‘community meeting’ he was invited to last week. As if Harry heard his thoughts, he informed Louis with caution, “Oh and by the way, the theme this week is something green…” followed by a faint, “Just so you know.” But Louis couldn’t care less.

Later that evening, Louis found himself, against his better judgement but full of guilt for completely dismissing Harry’s earlier invitation, standing beside Harry’s snowman in his oversized blue Vetements hoodie, soft fringe swept to the side. Harry was utterly delighted and didn’t think twice before he whisked Louis inside his home for the Kris Kringle Mingle.

Louis was then introduced to everyone inside and their names all forgotten, again, by the time he made his rounds to the next person, except of course for the dreaded Martha who was literally shoving her homemade Christmas fruitcake in his face.

“No Martha, I am not trying your fruitcake. Yes, I am well aware that’s your specialty. _Which is why I am not trying it at all.”_ Louis declared with finality, the last phrase murmured to himself in particular.

The highlight of the introductions was when Harry introduced Louis to his business partners, the beautiful couple Liam and Sophia, that had also immigrated here from the U.K. Liam was the head of the Business Development while Sophia was in charge of marketing.

“They’re engaged Lou!” Harry excitedly announced to Louis in a whisper-shout way, as if he were letting Louis in on a little secret, of which everyone in the room was already fully aware.

Louis and Liam got on like a house on fire. Probably because Liam resembled a young David Beckham, and he had a very warm smile etched on his face for most of the _Mingle_. He made Louis feel welcome and comfortable without even trying.

“I used to play football back in Wolverhampton. I mean in secondary school, I’m not as ace as you are though.”  Liam said and flashed Louis a childlike smile full of admiration.

“I could take you to the field one day and we can have a kickabout on a proper pitch.” Louis offered.

“Oh my god that would be amazing! Let me talk to the missus but here’s my number.”

They exchanged numbers and promised to set a ‘date’ on the pitch. He made an unexpected friend in a gathering he didn’t want to go to in the first place. _This isn’t so bad after all_ , Louis thought to himself.

As the _Mingle_ continued, Louis found out that the snow- _woman_ , Harry insisted it be identified as a she, was in fact named Holly… Holly Davidson.

“She has red lipstick and a little black skirt.” Louis just stood there with a blank expression on his face as Harry had to explain it to him, “It’s a pun Louis, Harley Davidson… Holly Davidson because she’s a girl, obviously, and it’s Christmas. _Holly Davidson_.”

“Oh, uh-huh. Okay. I see what you did there. Ha. Holly.” Louis nodded his support.

Harry had also discussed his plans to decorate Louis’ side of the house and yard, explaining that he’s trying for first place in their community’s Christmas House Decorating Contest. Harry explained that he had won second place last year, but he was absolutely certain, “We will win it, Louis. I have faith in us! First place here we come!” Harry cheered, delightful and practically bursting with happiness.

Instead of contributing insightful ideas, Louis was already scheming something devious to make it difficult on Harry. So he agreed to be part of the ‘team’, even though Harry reiterated that Louis simply had no choice.

“That’s just how it goes Lou, our homes are considered one unit.”

All in all, Louis would make sure that he would have the last laugh because there was just something about Harry that made Louis want to unravel him down to his deepest, darkest, Christmas loving secret.

 

* * *

 

#####  _5 December 2017 (Tuesday)_

This time, it wasn’t the usual rhythmic knocking on Louis’ door, but a cheerful voice shouting ‘knock knock’ from the other side. Louis opened the door wearing his usual grouchy morning face, the sun hadn’t even risen yet.

He leaned his half-asleep body on the door as a yawn escaped his mouth.

“Yes, Harold?” Louis scratched his head, leaving his hair even more messed up.

“Louis, you’re supposed to ask ‘who’s there?’” Harry scolded.

Louis just stood there, not bothering to respond, leaving only the sound of birds chirping as his reply. He noticed a huge red sack slung over Harry’s right shoulder. He opened his mouth to inquire, but decided against it.

“Louuuu…” Harry dragged out his name, his olive green eyes begging Louis to participate.

“Fine. Who’s there.” Louis said nonchalantly with an eye roll laced in annoyance.

“Santa!” Harry said, shoulders shaking as he sniggered.

“Santa who.”

“Wait, why am I at the door? I’m supposed to come down the chimney!” Harry exclaimed as he hit his head with his palm exaggeratedly. He dropped the sack as he bent over, and belly laughed at his own joke, lame as it was.

Louis didn’t hesitate when he slammed the door in Harry’s face. Because as Louis had predicted, he heard another set of knocks. He could just ignore curly Santa and go back to his interrupted slumber, but he was surprised when he caught a little wisp of a smile that escaped his mouth and quickly schooled his expression as he reached out to open the door, _again_.

The door was not even fully opened yet when Harry blurted, “What do you call a kid who doesn't believe in Santa?”

“I don’t know. Me?” Louis shrugged.

“No, Louis! Ask me.”  

“What then.” Louis spoke lazily.

“A rebel without a Claus!”

“That’s it! What do you want Harry Styles?” Louis crossed his arms over his torso, hips pushed forward as his right foot impatiently tapped the floor.

“It’s, um, quite freezing out here.” Harry gritted between his chattering teeth.

Louis took a sidestep and Harry rushed in without hesitation as he dragged the red sack with him. Louis closed the door behind him and turned around to rest his shoulders on the wall and gave Harry a questioning look.

“I took a day off so we can decorate your house!”

Louis wanted to tell him off, and he could if he really wanted to, but he reminded himself of his mission: _Cancel Christmas, Step 1 - Sabotage Harry’s Christmas Decorating Contest._

Instead he replied with, “We?... I think you should be grateful enough that I _let_ you decorate my house. Beggars can’t be choosers, Harold. I could kick you out anytime, and you’ll lose your chances of winning first place.”

Louis screwed his eyes shut and cursed himself as soon as the spiteful words left his lips. He may have been too harsh just then but he snuck a peek at Harry only to find him scanning Louis’ house, his fingers pulling his bottom lip, nodding in concentration as his head panned from left to right. Harry wasn’t paying any attention to Louis anyway.

So Louis left him alone to unload his red sack and occupied himself with some channel surfing on the couch.

Louis was completely oblivious to whatever Harry removed from his sack and unloaded into Louis’ refrigerator. He heard Harry quickly and quietly open and close his kitchen cabinets too. But Louis couldn’t care less, as long as he was not asked to participate in Harry’s dumb Christmas project.

After Harry’s shuffling in Louis’ kitchen, he finally set off with his decorations and started at Louis’ door. He hung a fresh boxwood wreath made of holly and eucalyptus, “Because Louis, it gives off a pleasant and welcoming fragrance, and helps repel insects.”

“Whatever!” Louis called back and shrugged his shoulders, as he continued on with his business of flipping through the channels on the telly.

Louis’ stomach rumbled loudly around lunch time and he thought he would finally get some time alone, but no. Harry was so set on finishing _their_ decorating project that day, he came well prepared. Louis watched as Harry began gathering ingredients, that he swore weren't there before, from his fridge and pantry and laid them out on the countertop.

“We’re cooking Quick Mini Quiches, as _quickish_ as possible!” Harry exclaimed.

Louis spat out the water he was gulping and accidentally snorted some of it up his nose. He didn’t expect this at all. First, Harry came barging into his home bearing Christmas paraphernalia, but now this? Cooking in Louis’ kitchen? Seriously though, Harry must have planned all this. He was absolutely relentless.

“Um... I actually stopped by the farmers market before I came over, so I could cook us lunch. You can help me whisk the eggs?” Harry spoke the answer to the questions floating in Louis’ head. Could it be that Harry heard his thoughts or was he thinking out loud again?

Louis regained his composure and hoped that his internal freak out just then, didn't show on his face.

“Harold. If you think I'm going to help you cook _and_ decorate, you're out of your mind. This was all your idea. But, if you want, I will sit here and watch you whisk or whatever you call it.”

Louis couldn’t see Harry’s reaction but he knew for sure that he was wearing that fond look on his face again, if his shaking shoulders were anything to go by.

“Question, is ‘whisking’ something you made up? Is it ‘elf’ terminology?” Louis inquired.

Harry finally turned to face Louis, leaving whatever it was he was busy with on the stove and walked towards him with a whisk on his right hand and a big grin on his face.

“Louis, um, when is your birthday?”

Instead of answering, Louis squinted his eyes and looked up at Harry as he tried to assess where the question might lead. As if Harry heard Louis’ thoughts, he answered with a, “I just wanted to give you your elf name. Come on Lou, when’s your birthday?”

“And you think after letting me know of your elf agenda, I’ll freely give you my birthday?” Louis raised an eyebrow at Harry.

“Well, I am cooking you lunch. I think I at least deserve to know the birthday of the person I’m feeding. No?”

Louis avoided Harry’s piercing gaze. “Where's the, um, tool to whisk. What is it even called? Is it like a spatula?” He inched closer to Harry, anything to keep him from looking into the curly elf’s eyes. Louis couldn't deny that the man-boy-elf was beautiful so why not be closer to him, _right?_ _Right._ And he did faintly smell of vanilla, cinnamon and pine cones.

“It's called a ‘whisk’ and the Victorians invented it in the nineteenth century… I think. But it wasn’t commonly used until Julia Child made it popular.”

“So, you use a whisk to whisk? That's... Self explanatory.”

“Did you know that before the invention of whisks, people actually used to use their hands?”

“Okay, thanks for the history lesson _Mary Berry_. Let’s get on with it.”

Harry paused when he realised he was distracted. “Wait a minute. You tricked me! So, your birthday. When is it? Please.”

“Ugh, fine! It’s not a big deal anyway. It’s on the twenty-fourth.”

After a brief moment of silence, the whole kitchen was filled with a very feminine and very loud shriek from Harry, something that Louis was not expecting.

“Are you serious Lou? Your birthday’s on Christmas Eve??? That’s so wonderful! Oh! It’s perfect!” Harry placed his hands to his heart and stared at Louis as if he was seeing God before him.

“And, that is why...I don’t go around telling people when it is. This right here, is why.”

Harry fumbled for his phone in the pocket of his sexy santa-helper apron and started to type in Louis’ birthday to generate his elf name.

“Pumpkin Trufflecane! That’s your Christmas elf name! I’m Gingernuts Hollycane, nice to meet you!” He stretched out his arm to shake Louis’ hand.

“I absolutely did not sign up for this.” Louis whispered to himself. “Food! Harold, get on with it! I’m hungry!”

Harry cracked the eggs into the bowl and started the task at hand.

“I bet if you just try your hand at it, you can be a master elf whisker, Pumpkin Trufflecane, and whisk even with your eyes closed.” Harry said in a challenging manner, one that Louis would absolutely not let slide.

“Okay Harold, whisking isn't beneath me. I can learn, after all. Also, I’ll whisk if you promise to stop calling me that ridiculous elf name.”

“Alright then Pumpkin. Um, you whisk with your wrist, like so.” Harry moved in and closed the gap between the two of them.

Louis felt sparks the second Harry touched him. Having Harry's large hand easily envelope his own, Louis decidedly entertained the thought that maybe, just maybe, whisking wouldn't be so bad after all.

“So, what exactly goes into this quiche _we_ are making? And what is that nasty green stuff you’re burning on the stove?”

“Next, we have to add the cheese, mushrooms, bacon and... What green do you mean... Holy Father Christmas! My spinach is burning!”

Louis could not contain his giggles as he watched Harry scramble to remove the smoking pan from the stove top, while he himself climbed the countertop and fanned the smoke detector with a muffin tin. He was surprised to see a panicked Harry spraying whipped cream onto the burning pan when he jumped down to the floor.

"Why would you use whipping cream to kill the fire? Don’t tell me you pulled that out of your Santa sack!”

“It’s actually _yours_.” Harry’s face exploded into a radiant grin. “It’s literally the only thing in your fridge.” He followed up with a raised brow.

Louis didn’t bother hiding his surprise, or his embarrassment. He felt his throat tighten up into a knot.

“Don’t give me that look Harold! You have no right to judge me, Gingernuts Hollycane! You curly Santa elf!” Louis shouted his defense.

A loud cackle escaped from deep within Harry’s throat, reminiscent of a snorting pig.

“Did you just call me by my elf name?” Harry asked, his nostrils flared and dimples popped out.

“You do know the joke’s on you, right?” Louis hissed, cheeks reddened in slight embarrassment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Harry shrugged as he walked towards the fridge to take out another bag of fresh spinach.

“Are you kidding me!? How much food did you bring over? And, more importantly, how did I _not_ notice?”

“My favourite veggie stall was having a BOGO and I couldn't resist. I might have also foreseen that something like this might happen.”

“Bringing in all this food. Orchestrating my demise in the kitchen. You set me up for failure!!!”

“You, a failure? I'm actually the one that got distracted and left the spinach unsupervised. I am clumsy, but I don't ever get distracted. I have failed as a chef!” Harry announced dramatically, leaning on the fridge as he swung his arm up to cover his face.

“Oh please. Harold. You are not a failed chef. Don't be so dramatic. Look, you successfully taught me, the unteachable, how to whisk.” Louis went fond and took a hold of Harry's shoulder to turn him around so they could face each other.

“Look, I really appreciate you doing all this for me. You are very... talented and very... spirited. Let's move on. What's next?”

___

“Okay Jamie Oliver, now that lunch is done, I would offer to help decorate, but I'm simply drained from all that whisking, so I'm gonna go have a nap on the couch.” Louis declared. “And don't even think about turning on Christmas carols!”

As he flapped a hand in dismissal at Harry, but before he could saunter away from the kitchen, he was wrapped up in a crushing bearhug.

“Yay us! Dream Team!” Harry beamed and he pumped his fist up the ceiling, but quickly let go of Louis and stumbled his way out of the kitchen, completely ignoring Louis’ comment about the music.

“I made a playlist for us to listen to while _we_ decorate. There aren’t many carols on it. I promise you'll love it.”

Harry fumbled for his iPhone and placed it on the speaker dock, humming cheerily when the first song came up.

Gritty and fast guitar chords resonated throughout Louis’ side of the duplex followed by Harry belting out alongside the singer, “Don't wanna be an American idiot! Don't want a nation under the new media!” Harry sang along.

 _Well, that’s scarily appropriate,_ Louis thought to himself.

“So, no nap then?” he asked.

“No. No nap.” Harry bobbed his head to the beat and danced around with arms waving while a red and green sparkly strand of garland that acted as a boa around his arms and neck.

Louis couldn't deny Harry did look good with that boa and realised that he had completely forgotten about his mission. _Maybe decorating the house won’t be that bad after all?_

“If you think I'm climbing a ladder to put some tacky reindeer and sleigh on _my_ roof, you've got another thing coming, because that’s not going to happen.”

“I didn't bring a ladder with me anyway, Lou and besides, I doubt you’d be able to reach up that high.”

“Oi! Low blow, Harry. Low blow.”

Harry went back to his red sack and started pulling out lights, scented candles and a miniature Christmas tree.

“Where do you think you’re going with those candles?” Louis inquired.

“Oh, I love the smell of Fresh Pine in the bathroom, so I’m just going to put this in there. And Sugar Cookie for the guest room, always gets lots of praises for that one. Everyone loves it!” Harry announced as he walked around the duplex placing candles in each room while Louis trailed behind him and picked each and everyone of them up.

When Harry got to Louis’ room, he stopped and asked “What scent do you want for your bedroom? Cinnamon? Like sweet cinnamon or like hot and spicy cinnamon?”

“Let’s do the lights!” Louis quickly changed the subject as Harry was turning the doorknob of Louis’ bedroom. He watched as Harry turned around and saw all the candles that he had just put out being held in Louis’ arms.

“Heeey, I put those out for your house to smell nice.”

“Are you judging the sanctity of my home? Here I am, welcoming you into my humble abode and this is what I get from you?” Louis shook his head in faux disappointment. “Also, I don’t think that has anything to do with the competition, Harold. The outside of the house is what we’re going to be judged on. Not what it smells like inside.”

Harry had already left the hallway by the time Louis finished his retort.

“Come on Lou, we have to decorate the tree before we do the lights outside, like you suggested!” Harry shouted from downstairs as he placed the last scented candle in his hand on top of Louis’ coffee table.

Louis sighed in defeat and retraced his steps as he put all the candles back to where Harry had originally set them. He discreetly set aside a Cinnamon Spice candle to put in his bedroom for later.

___

The sun was setting when they finally finished installing a reindeer and its sleigh on top of their roof. Harry engaged Louis into a one-sided discussion on what to call their masterpiece.

“Larry Stylinson, the prancing reindeer because it’s the symbol of us, Lou. The dashing vixens that live next door to each other!" Harry declared.

“ _Larry Stylinson_?” Louis asked, bewildered.

“It’s a collective name that stands for our greatness. It’s the symbol of us and the one that unifies _our_ home. We did it!” Harry’s face glowed with pride.

“I hope a comet plummets from the sky and takes out that 'catastrophe waiting to happen' of a decoration on my roof in a blaze of glory,” but the look on Louis’ face contradicted his blasphemy.

Louis stood shoulder to shoulder with Harry in the front yard, both with arms crossed over their chests from a job well done and admired their creation. This might be the most he had ever done for a holiday that he genuinely detested but he was impressed, to say the least.

Harry tidied up and packed everything back into his red sack and bid his departure, uttering a _goodnight_ behind his yawn. _What a hectic day_ , Louis smiled to himself, pursing his lips as he recalled the spinach catastrophe.

Louis was in the middle of his rumination when he heard a faint knock on his door. He wouldn’t even have caught it if he wasn’t already on his way out to take his first puff for the day. He was too preoccupied by a relentless curly Santa man-boy to even squeeze in a smoke break. Louis opened the door expecting Harry, again, but to his dismay, there was no one around except for a sparkly golden box sitting on his porch with an obnoxious red ribbon on top of it. He picked it up and rushed back inside, his smoke thrown to oblivion.

He tore the box open and found a golden whisk with green Hershey’s kisses in it, and a note attached that said: “We _whisk_ you a Merry _kiss_ -mas”.

He had totally forgotten about the gift exchange, not that it mattered whether he participated or not anyway. This was, after all, one of the things he hated about Christmas - being forced to give gifts. His mind wandered about the possible things that would best fit in the category of ‘something green’ and would also send the message of ‘I’m doing this not because I’m starting to like Christmas, but rather I want to show you how ridiculous this tradition is’.

He walked to the kitchen and placed the golden whisk on the cupboard after he had deposited the stash of green kisses into his fridge. He was exhausted after a whole day’s _work_ , but he wouldn’t deny the fact that this was the best way to end his day.

 

* * *

 

#####  _6 December 2017 (Wednesday)_

Harry was driving in his lavender HR-V on his way home from work when the recollected scenes of the past few days came flooding in his mind’s eye. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, which caused a giddy feeling in his stomach. He pinched the bridge of his nose just to collect himself. It wouldn’t really be so bad to swim into the pools of Louis’ ocean blue eyes, he wouldn’t even mind drowning in them, if that meant being brought back to life with Louis’ lips on his as he resuscitated him. Oh, what he would give to have the luxury of tasting those inviting lips and trace the sharpness of Louis’ jaw with his tongue. He shook his head from his fantasies when he noticed that he had almost missed his turn.

He drove passed the duplex and decided to drive further into the cul-de-sac and park there for a while until he had regained his composure. Thoughts of his beautiful and sassy neighbour might be the death of him. No, literally, the death of him. He still can’t believe how lucky he had been, just to be graced by Louis’ presence. He missed his home back in Cheshire with his mum and sister, but Louis’ arrival into his life somehow made it felt like home here.

He laughed to himself as he recalled the moment he first laid eyes on his gorgeous neighbour, _thank God he didn’t notice me staring at him through my window._ He had confirmed that day that Niall was not overselling Louis with his descriptions in the couple of times they had met when the agent was house hunting.

The HOA meeting came back to him next and he couldn’t help but to burst into fits of laughter as he mouthed the introductory speech Louis gave at the clubhouse. “Hailing from the land of Doncaster, South of Yorkshire.” He clapped his hand to his mouth when he realised how silly and absurd he must have looked to passersby. He couldn’t be blamed though. _Louis is just too funny. He’s a funny guy. And hot. A hot and funny guy._ That’s why he didn’t have any regrets when he offered Jordan free breakfasts for a month in exchange for Louis’ drawn out name from the fishbowl during the ‘community meeting’ for the Secret Santa gift exchange. It was, he admitted, a rash decision but he doubted it would hurt RBB’s financial standing. It was surely a great deal though, because he would trade anything in the world just to have the opportunity to put a smile on Louis’ beautiful face.

He continued his daydreaming as he checked outside for onlookers and was relieved that the street was deserted. He wished he could spend more time around Louis, just so he could sit and admire him.

_Oh, I hope that’s not creepy. I’m not creepy. Wait, I know myself. I’m not creepy. Or… maybe I am creepy, but in a cool way. Yeah, that’s it. Maybe I should have let him take a nap when we decorated his house. At least then I would have had a legit opportunity to be close to him. Just imagine. Us. Together. Lounging on the sofa, channel surfing together. Warm and cuddly wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, together._

He was awoken from his reverie by a couple of taps on his car window. And was surprised to see his neighbour, Martha, flashing him a very Stepford-wife smile. He rolled his window down and only managed to catch the last few words from her.

“... leftover meatloaf, I could microwave it for you.”

“Good evening Martha! That’s so sweet of you. But I have to decline. I had dinner before I left the restaurant so, perhaps another time? I was just, um, checking out the neighbourhood.” Harry waved his hand and pointed to nowhere in particular.

“You’re not spying on us, are you?”

“Hey, no! I wouldn’t. Um, I’m just going to go now. Have a lovely evening, Martha.” He sped off, not bothering to roll his window back up while still parked. Martha was nice but he knew for sure that once he stepped foot into her home, he might not make it back out in one piece.

He parked in his usual spot, just in front of his front yard and was surprised to see that the lights on Louis’ side of the duplex were already turned off. _Early night,_ he thought to himself. Not that he knew the exact time Louis usually went to bed. He just happened to be quite attentive, that’s all.

Harry stepped out of his car and headed straight to the mailbox that was wrapped in white and red ribbon to resemble a candy cane. He walked briskly back to his car to get the light up flamingos dressed as Santa and place them in the middle of the lawn that separated his from Louis’ yard. He smiled at how pleased he was with himself on his lovely purchase. He was actually thinking twice about it, as he might be over decorating their duplex, but the current addition seemed to blend pretty well. He ambled back to check the mailbox as he shook his head for almost forgetting his usual routine.

There was no mail, but instead he found a single green olive with a chicken scratched tea-stained note tucked underneath it that read: ‘ _I was at the grocery store anyway, so I got you this.’_ Harry bit his bottom lip to prevent a smile from escaping. He hated olives but the thought of Louis remembering that and going to the trouble just to spite him, stirred the butterflies in his stomach all over again. He was certain this note was from Louis, no doubt. He pulled his beanie down over his reddening cheeks and ears as he guiltily scanned the dimly lit street and thanked Father Christmas when he was sure that there were no witnesses around and that Martha was definitely gone.

He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the two-feet tall box sat right on his front porch until he stumbled over it. This made him lose his balance and drop the olive on the ground. He bent down and army crawled over the snow patched lawn chasing the olive. He managed to grab hold of it and quickly tuck it in his pocket for safekeeping. He might even frame it, _maybe_. He got up, his knees seemed a little wobbly, probably from the crawling although he was sure, it was definitely because of the thought of a certain someone. He bit his bottom lip and smiled with his dimples popping out. He picked up the box and hastily went inside as he tried to contain his excitement.

Harry was shaking in between fits of laughter and amazement when he finally saw the contents of the box. A lone piece of green balloon and a note that read:

 **HAIR DRYER FOR YOUR** ~~**LUSCIOUS**~~ **UNRULY CURLS:**

  1. Inflate balloon.
  2. Hold inflated balloon next to hair.
  3. Slowly release air towards hair.
  4. Repeat steps until hair is dry.



Signed with obnoxious handwriting in all caps, **‘YOU’RE WELCOME!’**

 

* * *

 

#####  _11 December 2017 (Monday)_

Sunny days were rare in Louisville, Louis had figured out. He was never a morning person, but when the sun finally graced the city with its presence, he took the opportunity to bask under it. He was wearing a pink oversized jumper, probably twice his size, only his fingertips could be seen and FBT shorts with the Doncaster Rovers patch on the right side.

Louis was in the middle of stretching, body bent over, his bum facing up towards the sky with his hands on the ground so in deep concentration, breathing in and out, that he toppled over onto the ground when he heard an interrupting cough from the other side of the yard.

“Lovely morning! Nice day to play soccer today, huh?” Harry greeted cheerfully, eyes bulging as Louis stood up, brushing off his bum.

“Soccer?” Louis scoffed. “It’s called football, Harold.”

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.” Harry shrugged, dimples popping out as he looked to the ground.

“There’s a huge difference between what Americans call ‘football’ and the actual _football_ I play. You see, football involves a _foot_ and a _ball_ . American football, on the other hand, mostly involves carrying something egg-shaped in your hand while running around. That, my lad, is called, _hand-egg_.”

Louis only then had a proper look at Harry. He was wearing what kind of looked like an American flag as a headscarf and a hideous Christmas jumper. He hesitantly made eye contact with the blushing Harry before explaining why he had just checked him out.

“What in the world are you wearing?! And why do you have that American flag on your head? Seriously? I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve converted your citizenship already. Traitor!” Louis pointed at Harry accusingly.

“It’s a Christmas sweater I got from the Make-A-Wish Foundation’s charity event I catered last weekend, same as the bandana. The kids made them for me.” Harry answered proudly.

“It’s jumper and headscarf, you wanker! Are you in the running for ‘ugliest _jumper_?’ Cos I can tell you, you’re winning by a mile there.”

Louis could spend all day engaging in fake arguments and debating the differences between the American and British language with Harry, but he was interrupted by Bandana Boy quickly changing the subject

“The Secret Santa theme for this week is ‘something that reminds you of your giftee’. So um, yeah, I just wanted to remind you of that. I’m heading out. Can’t be late for work!” Harry made his exit and almost tripped himself by how urgently he strode to his car.

“I hope there’s a special place in hell for the creator of that Secret Santa tradition!” Louis mumbled under his breath as he recalled how he hated being forced to give gifts. He would rather get a few genuine presents from a special someone than a hundred mundane gifts that he probably had no use for. Thinking about it, most of the presents that he had received from Harry, or rather, his Secret Santa, had been nothing but useful. He might even be the one breaking his own gift-giving policy by giving nonsensical gifts. He did think about them carefully though. Maybe they weren’t that useful, but he sure was thinking of his giftee whenever he picked them out. He took his phone out from his pocket and tapped on Liam’s name, he might need some reinforcements on this one.

“ _Hey mate, what’s up-”_

“What’s one thing that reminds you of Harry?” Louis interrupted.

“ _I don’t know. Oh! OH! You’re his Secret Santa! You’re Harry’s Secret Santa! This is ama-”_

“Shit! Thanks for nothing Liam.” Louis hung up on him instead of listening to how ‘amazing’ Liam thought it was that he drew Harry’s name.

___

Louis found himself that afternoon in the wool and fleece section at Macy’s. The moment he saw the rainbow fleece scarf, he knew right then and there that that was the perfect gift for Harry. Just the sight of the colourful material made him think of the man.

After purchasing his second Secret Santa gift, he drove home and parked in front of his side of the duplex and quickly wrapped the scarf in the punny [ ‘rapping’ paper ](https://blazepress.com/.image/c_limit%2Ccs_srgb%2Cq_80%2Cw_650/MTI4OTkzMjc2ODk5ODcwNzMw/funniest-christmas-puns-rapping-paper.webp) he saw in the Christmas novelty section. The amount of tape he used to wrap such a small item was slightly alarming but he did his best nonetheless. He scribbled a note that read: “Fleece Navidad!” and held up the gift when he was done and patted himself on the back for a job well done.

He went over to Harry’s front porch and carefully placed his self-wrapped masterpiece next to the door. He checked the window into Harry’s house and was relieved to find it empty. He walked back over to his side of the duplex but was too busy searching for his keys as he patted down his trousers that he almost missed the paper bag dangling from his doorknob until he went to unlock his door. He didn’t even bother going inside the house, his excitement overtook him as he clawed his way through the paper. He wasn’t going to lie, receiving gifts from his Secret Santa was one of the things he had started to look forward to.

If he thought Harry’s jumper from this morning was hideous, he was wrong. The jumper he currently had in his hands was, if possible, even worse. As he held it up and inspected it, he decided it was probably the most grotesque article of clothing he had ever seen in his entire life.

It looked like a child had made it. A child probably had made it because it definitely didn't have a consistent theme. One arm of the jumper had tiny golden bells attached down the length of it with clumps of hot glue barely holding them on whereas the other arm had a strand of silver garland wrapped around it, also attached by hot glue. The jumper itself was made of nice thick material but was totally ruined by all the glue and plastic ornaments.

He also found a pair of Santa mittens in the bag with a note that said “What do cats and dogs call Santa Clause? -- Santa Paws!!! xx”

He didn’t want to think about the ‘xx’ at the end of the card. It was probably just an ending statement. Nothing more, nothing less. He was never going to wear that jumper anyway, nor would he use the mittens but it was a nice thought. He stepped inside his home with a smile etched on his face and a racing heart that beat like there were horses rampaging inside his chest.

 

* * *

#####  _16 December 2017 (Saturday)_

Louis found himself at the Winter Skate rink on a Saturday afternoon with the rest of his new teammates for a charity event. Why the event was being held at a skating rink and not at their own football field, still baffled Louis. Why they were to teach kids how to skate instead of play football was the biggest question still left unanswered. When he had asked this exact question to his team during their introductory dinner, he was met with looks from his teammates that bordered on pitiful. Some of them even looked like they were about to bust a gut from holding in their laughter. He refrained from asking what he thought were 'relevant' questions for the duration of the dinner in favour of trying to regain back some of his initial coolness and preventing an even worse first impression.

Louis was in the midst of helping out a 5-year old girl with pink ear muffs sat atop her caramel curls tie the laces of her glittery pink ice skates when he heard a familiar voice calling out his name. He turned around to confirm his suspicion, and, well, _look at that_.

“Louis! Louis! Lou!” Harry called his name repeatedly. He was used to people yelling at him, his previous trainers and coaches, and his mother if he was being honest, were to blame for that, but right at this very moment, he loved the way it echoed off the ice and flooded the rink. He would never wish to change his name ever again, especially if it meant Harry was screaming it.

“I heard you the first of the hundred times you called my name, Harold.” Louis stood up and turned to face Harry, his eyebrows raised a notch when he saw the rainbow scarf wrapped around the other man’s neck.

“What are you doing here?” Louis asked in unison with Harry, his eyes still glued on the scarf as he fought the smile threatening to escape his face.

“You go first.” Harry offered, dimples peeking out from his cheeks and nose scrunched up. But Louis was already talking over him.

"Obviously,” Louis looked around, “Christmas charity event with the team. Which I find absurd!” Louis complained.

“What do you mean?” Harry inquired with a curious face.

“We’re a football -- or what these Americans and yourself call, ‘soccer’ team. What the hell are we doing at a skating rink? It’s a travesty!” Louis confided and let out a deep breath. It felt good to have it all out.

Before Harry could even utter words of comfort, Louis felt a faint tug on his tracksuit.

“Loo-wee, who’s your friend?” Came from the girl with caramel curls. A coy smile appeared on her face as her cheeks turned even more red, definitely not from the cold temperature.

“Oh, who do we have here, Louis? I didn’t know you brought your girlfriend out for a date?” Harry teased, with hints of endearment in his voice.

“I am not Louis’ girlfriend. He likes girls but not like that,” she explained. “Louis likes boys! Like you. Hmmm. Do you want him to be your boyfriend?” She directed her question to Louis in particular, curious and innocent.  

Louis patted the girl’s head to try to stop her from revealing any more of what he had told her earlier when he tried to explain how boys can also like boys and all the same with girls. Louis coughed to distract her train of thought, whatever it was that was building inside her charming, tiny little head must be prevented from ever coming out.

“Harry, meet my Laura, my new favourite person in the world!” Laura beamed at Louis’ declaration.

“Laura, this is my Harry. My uh, my annoying neighbour. Not _my_ Harry, obviously!” Louis stuttered his defense.

Louis’ slip of the tongue earned him the biggest smile so far from Harry, who scrunched up his nose completely trying his hardest to be subtle, but was obviously failing at the art of subtlety. Harry curtsied and offered his hand to Laura, avoiding Louis’ gaze.

“Pleasure to meet you young Laura.” He addressed the adorable girl with fluffy curls.

“I thought I was your favourite person Lou? But I will _happily_ give over my title to Miss Laura. I don’t think I can compete with your little girlfriend… I mean your favourite person.” Harry knelt down to her level. “I think you’re going to be my favourite person too! Look at you, you’re like my mini me. We’re even matching from head to toe.” Harry flipped his hair to prove his point.

Harry’s revelation seemed to spark more buzz to the excitable Laura.

“Are you telling the truth, Harreh? And you love pink too?” Asked Laura as she tugged at the rainbow scarf around Harry’s neck.

“Of course, I’m telling the truth and nothing but the truth.” Harry placed his hand to his chest to prove his point.

“Then you’re going to be my favourite person too!” Laura hugged Harry excitedly, which caused him to fall backwards on his bum. This gave Laura and Louis a good laugh. Louis coughed his laughter off and offered his hand to help them up off the ice.

“Excuse me! I thought I was your favourite, Laura?” Louis gasped and held her hand.

“No, no, no!” Laura chimed and hugged Louis’ middle. “You’re both my most favourite persons in the universe!” Laura let go of Louis and spread her arms wide open.

“Fine. But I was your favourite, first!” Louis said firmly.

Harry winked at Laura and extended his hand for her to hold on to.

The three of them, hand in hand, stepped out onto the ice rink. Louis was definitely a natural, perhaps he was a figure skater in a previous life. He moved with grace and finesse while Harry was exactly the opposite. He looked like Bambi learning his first steps. Laura held onto Louis while he guided her along as he skated backwards. Harry, on the other hand, was preoccupied with ‘gaining his momentum’ and when he finally did, he lunged up and landed perfectly on his right foot as he assumed his ‘winning pose.’

“That’s amazing Harry! Teach me!” Laura cheered and skated towards Harry, completely ignoring the spinning Louis behind her. Louis halted from his spins and found that he had lost his sole audience. He shimmied away towards the two and found them in the middle of the rink with Harry squatted down and his hands around Laura’s waist in his attempt to lift her up.

“Whoa! I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Louis interrupted.

“But it’s so much fun Lou! You should try it!” She raved.

“Alright sure, come here then.” Louis waved his hand to beckon the girl.

“No, not me, silly! You, should try it. Harry, please lift Louis just like you did me! Harry’s so strong, I think he can lift us both.” Laura bragged and looked at Harry with so much adoration.

Meanwhile, the curly lad silently stood aside, bashfully listening to their exchange.

“Um, no. I will not risk my life. Thank you very much.” Louis slowly skated backwards away from the two of them, while looking measurably at Harry, noting how he had the front of his right skating blade digging a hole into the ice and how a faint blush had made its way onto the apples of his cheeks.

“Louis, are you scared?” Laura inquired curiously.

“Of course not!” Louis halted abruptly and stood high and mighty, his hands on his waist, resembling Peter Pan. “But why do I have to be the one lifted up?”

“Because you’re tiny Lou!” Laura and Harry declared in unison, in between giggles.

“Come on Lou. I won’t let you fall. I promise.” Harry stressed and extended his right arm, gesturing for Louis to come closer. His eyes pierced through Louis’ soul. _I promise._ This boy was going to be the death of him.

“Fine. I’m doing this not because I’m tiny, mind you! But only because I would do anything for my favourite person.” Louis quickly diverted his gaze to Laura when Harry reciprocated his stare and held it for more than a minute. The corners of Louis’ mouth twitched upwards, tentatively exploring the reaches of a smile that he had been holding off.

Harry instructed Louis to skate a little bit further away from him so they could recreate the famous ‘Dirty Dancing’ lift scene _on ice_. Louis knew that it was definitely a bad idea but he was too hyped about it that he found himself following Harry’s directions blindly.

Louis obediently skated about ten meters away from Harry while Laura completely vacated the area to give them plenty of room. Harry held up his arms like he was wielding flags at an F1 race, dug his skates into the ice and shouted, “Ready! Set! Skate!”

At that, Louis sliced his blades into the ice as hard as he could and took off, racing towards Harry at a blinding speed, eyes locked with Harry’s the whole time. The closer he got to the taller lad, the faster he went; legs straining against the ice, torso bent and ready for Harry’s hands. If he was going to do this, he was going to totally go for it. Just before reaching him, Louis spread out his arms and leapt into the air, silently hoping Harry was more prepared for this lift than he was. He jumped with all his might as he felt Harry’s hands close around his waist, just above his hip bones.

For a moment, it felt like they had actually nailed it. Louis was high in the air and caught a quick glimpse of Harry’s chocolate curls flailing around his head. But the moment quickly passed as he felt the right side of his body start to crumble towards the ice. He instantly tried to recover himself by trying to put his feet back underneath him to break his fall. He failed. Well, he sort of failed. His right leg was twisted around Harry’s left arm and he landed on both of them. Searing pain instantly flooded his right ankle. He quickly scrambled to right himself but only seemed to make matters worse when he heard Harry cry out in pain.

“No, Louis, wait! My arm! It’s caught on your blade!” Harry shouted from where he was pinned under Louis.

Louis stilled himself immediately as Harry tried to untangle their limbs.

“Oh, Louis. I’m so sorry. I never should have pressured you into doing this. I’m sorry. My wrist gave out as soon as I had you above me. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Harry rushed out all in one go, barely taking a breath.

Louis calmly laid still with his eyes closed as he assessed all of his previous and regretful life choices that had led him to this exact moment. His back and bum were freezing from laying on the frozen floor, his ankle already starting to swell in his tightly laced skate.

“Louis! Answer me! OHMYGOD! He’s not breathing!” Harry panicked.

“Harold. Remind me to never try something like that again,” Louis simply replied. “And for the record, yes, I am breathing.”

Only then did he open his eyes to notice that the two of them were finally untangled and Harry was clutching his left wrist to his chest.

“Oh, thank God!” Harry sighed his relief. “Hold up your leg so I can unlace your skate before the swelling gets too bad.”

“I will do no such thing!” Louis responded adamantly. “Just call for the A&E crew. They can come get me. How’s your ‘weak wrist?’ Do you think it’s broken?”

“I’ll be fine, Lou, thanks,” Harry mumbled his answer. “Again, I’m really sorry.”

Laura and a few other skaters came over to see what all the commotion was and the little girl crowded in the closest.

“Kiss him Harry! That’s what my mama does when I hurt myself.” Laura suggested, tugging Harry’s free hand.

Harry was already leaning to do just what she suggested but was stopped by Louis’ shrieks.

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing?!” Louis protested, his arms flew up to cover his face as if a predator was about to pounce on him.

“But. Laura… said. She said that I… I um… that... I should, um... kiss you.” Harry stammered, avoiding eye contact as he fiddled with the laces of Louis’ skates.

Someone must have already called the hospital because the wail of the ambulance sirens reverberated in Louis’ chest causing his heartbeat to race even faster than it already was. He saw the embarrassed and worried stares of his new teammates and had never felt so small as he felt right now. _So much for a good impression._

Louis kept his eyes frozen to the ground while the paramedics lifted him up onto the stretcher and rolled him across the rink, parading him in front of everyone there.

“I’m just going to change my shoes and I'll meet you in the ambulance so I can ride with you to the hospital,” Harry explained, still protecting his wrist.

Louis only nodded in response and kept his eyes closed while being loaded into the rig. Once he was in, he finally let out the breath he didn't realise he had been holding in.

It wasn’t but just a few minutes later when Harry reappeared, standing at the open back doors of the ambulance.

“May I please ride with him?” Harry politely begged the two paramedics. “He doesn't have any family here.”

“Sure, but only if it’s okay with him,” one of the medics answered.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. Are you quite finished?” All of Louis’ patience was gone as he snapped back his answer.

Louis missed the medics epic eye roll as he remarked to Harry that he may want to get his wrist checked out once they got to the hospital.

Harry silently and quickly climbed into the back of the ambulance and sat in the tiny seat off to the side so as not to be in the way but he did rest his good arm on Louis’ right thigh.

“I don't need to be comforted.” Louis snapped at Harry, but secretly he was just glad to have the warmth of Harry on him, even in this small way.

The ride from the rink to the hospital was short lived, _thank god_. They arrived in less than ten minutes.

 ___

“I only have one pair of feet, and you decided to break my best foot. Really, Patrick Swayze?” Louis scolded Harry from inside of the bleek hospital room as they waited on the doctor to give them his X-Ray results.

He watched as his harsh words cut through Harry’s supportive facade, his face fell heavy with regret and sadness. He had already gotten his wrist checked out and had it wrapped in an ace bandage as he sat quietly next to Louis and didn’t even try to defend himself.

“Calm down Mr. Tomlinson,” the doctor pleaded, as he stepped inside the room, having had caught Louis’ snarky remarks from earlier on. “It’s really not that bad. Your X-Rays don’t show any fractures and the swelling has started to go down just in the small amount of time you’ve been here. This is just an old fashioned ankle sprain.” The doctor explained and side-eyed Harry with a pitiful look.

“Lou, I’m really sorry that I let this happen to you. I’ll take a leave from work and be your personal butler until you’re fully recovered. I promise.” Harry offered, raising his hand in a Scout’s honor motion.

 _I promise, my arse!_ Louis swore to himself.

“If my memory serves me right, I remember you _promising_ not to let me fall and look where your promise got me? My best foot, really? I cannot believe you!” Louis hissed, shaking his head as he slouched in the bed.

“But I didn’t let you fall, I was completely holding on to you the whole time.” Harry raised his sprained wrist. He looked vulnerable, lips red and swollen from being constantly bitten.

Louis reciprocated Harry’s apologetic expression with a scowl as he crossed his arms. He was being hard on Harry but he just couldn’t accept the state he was currently in.

“You’re a soccer player, I was told.” The doctor said in a matter-of-fact tone when the two stopped their bickering.

“Football player.” Harry corrected before Louis could even protest and start rambling on again.

“So you should be quite used to injuries like this already. Is that correct, Mr. Tomlinson? You can still play soccer, or football, or whatever it is you play using your best foot.”

Louis was taken aback by the physician’s presumptuous tone. He would have stood up and stomped out of the room if it wasn’t for his current situation. He gritted his teeth as he released his frustrations from not being able to to think of a better comeback.

“So what’s the next step then, _doctor_?” Louis snapped.

“Well, I would suggest a walking boot for you to wear when you are comfortable to bear weight on it and we will get you one before you are discharged home. Until then, stay off of it as much as you can and keep your ankle elevated above your heart with an ice pack on it every other hour. I’ll write you a script for some pain meds in the meantime.” The doctor answered. He assured Louis that he would make a full recovery and that he wouldn’t even remember he had ever been injured.

But the doctor was cut off by Louis’ pitiful whine as he tried to flex his right ankle.

“Ow-ha-how,” the footballer moaned as he threw himself backwards on the bed. “This little mishap had better not set me back for spring training, Harold.”

“I’m so sorry, Louis. I don’t know what else to say,” Harry apologised as his face fell in shame.

“Mr. Tomlinson,” the doctor started, “may I also suggest something for your nerves? You seem to be in quite a state here.”

Louis glared at the physician as if he were mad. He wasn’t in any ‘state!’ He was simply concerned for his future.

“Yes, please do that,” Harry interjected.

“Oi! That’s quite enough out of you,” Louis barked out.

“I only want what’s best for you,” the curly lad explained.

“I’ll go ahead and write you a script for a very mild sedative, Mr. Tomlinson. You will not be able to drive while taking it though so I recommend that you have a driver if you need to travel,” the doctor stated.

Louis felt like he was being ganged up on but decided that Harry would make the perfect chauffeur for him, so he settled his mind, to take it all in stride as he thanked the doctor before he left the room.

After a few moments of Louis tossing and turning in his hospital bed, the nurse finally came in with a cup of pills and handed them to Louis and he swallowed them with a single gulp of water. He winced slightly as she laced up the boot on his ankle and only complained a little when she adjusted the crutches to fit him.

Louis was already in a hazy state when she came back with the release papers so Harry offered to signed them instead. He then proceeded to call them a cab while Louis flapped his hands towards Harry in a futile attempt to grab his phone.

“Louis, I’m calling us a cab.” Harry twisted his torso away from Louis’ grabby hands.

Louis was already feeling the effect of the pills and instead of grabbing the phone he ended up grabbing something else entirely.

“Will you...oh!” Harry exclaimed. “Louis stop!” Harry tried to shoo him away gently.

“What’s that bulge, Harry?” Louis asked as his hands travelled down from Harry’s chest to his very plump backside.

“Louis! That’s my wallet!” Harry remarked scandalised, face turning beet red.

“Sure, mate. You have two wallets.” Louis slurred as he leaned on the man for support to get out of the bed so they could finally leave the hospital.

___

The pair arrived at the empty car park of Winter Skate with only two cars left on opposite sides of the lot. Louis side-eyed Harry and dangled his car keys in his face suggesting that Harry drive his car back home.

“I’m not riding in your flower petal of a car.” Louis insisted before Harry even had the chance to say anything.

“Are you sure?” Harry questioned. “I’ve never driven something that expensive before. I don’t wanna crash us. Or wreck us.”

If Louis wasn't drugged he would have pointed out to him that they literally just came back from the hospital, and him talking about getting into accident again was absolutely uncalled for.

“I just want to go home, Haz. Please, take me home.” Louis drawled and threw his car keys at Harry.

Harry hesitantly walked over the direction of a black Range Rover with Louis walking groggily by his side. He opened the door of the passenger’s seat, assisting Louis up and secured him in with the seat belt before placing the crutches in the back.

Louis was already fast asleep before Harry rounded the car and got behind the wheel .

___

“Lou,” Harry whispered softly in Louis’ ear, “We’re home.”

“Bed,” was all Louis managed to say in response.

Harry had to practically carry the footballer to his doorstep because the sedative was still in full effect. Only then did he notice that there weren’t any extra keys on Louis’ key ring for him to unlock the door so he proceeded to pat Louis down in search of his house key.

“I knew you’d try to feeeeel me up eventually Haaaazzz,” Louis giggled out.

“Just trying to find your house key, Lou,” Harry replied dryly.

“I, um, lost my house key a few days ago but there’s another one somewhere around here,” Louis unhelpfully gestured towards the whole front of the house. “Try looking over there.”

“Where exactly?” Harry questioned. “It’s cold and we need to get you inside and get that leg of yours propped up.”

Louis threw his head back in frustration and let out a long dramatic sigh as he noticed a little glint of light reflected from something from atop the doorframe.

_Oh. Well that makes sense._

“What makes sense?”

_Did I just say that out loud?_

“Yes, you did!” Harry impatiently remarked. “Please just tell me where the key is.”

Louis decided not to think any more thoughts as he may speak them aloud again and instead just pointed to the key resting on top of the doorframe. Harry’s eyes followed the direction as he quickly snatched the key and unlocked the door.

Louis only stumbled twice in the fifteen steps it took him to get to the couch, but Harry only laughed at him the first time, fearing for his life when Louis stumbled the second time and instantly threw a murderous glare at his already smiling neighbour.

While Louis was making himself comfortable on the couch, Harry went back out to the car to fetch the crutches, pain medicine and paperwork from the hospital. When he returned, Louis was already starting to doze off again.

“I’m just going to get a few things from your room to make you a bed down here for the night,” Harry explained as he ran upstairs to gather blankets and pillows. He came back down a few minutes later, arm laden with linens and pillows and began the process of building Louis a makeshift blanket fort, complete with phone charger and easily accessible TV remotes.

“I’m tired, Harry. Please, go away,” the injured man pleaded in lieu of thanking him. All traces of anger were finally gone from his tone and instead replaced by drowsiness from the sedative.

Harry obliged, eyes on the ground, lips bitten with worry until almost bleeding, as he dragged his feet towards the direction of the front door.

“Wait!” Louis called from the couch. “Would you be so kind to light up a vanilla candle for me, please?” Louis requested courteously in the middle of his sleepy state, to which Harry nodded his answer with a huge grin on his face as he lit the scented tea light candle and placed it on a metal tray away from all things flammable.

“So, you’re all set for the night. I’ll be back over tomorrow morning to check on you. I’ll even bring breakfast,” Harry said as he pocketed Louis’ house key and quietly slipped out, locking the door behind him.

Louis immediately picked up his phone to call Niall and started muttering curses the moment his call was answered.

 _“Hey, mate, slow down bruv. Let me get Ni.”_ Louis heard a muffled voice calling out to Niall in the most endearing way. _Yuck!_

 _“Tommo!”_ Niall shouted, his voice rang through Louis’ ears.

Louis continued on with his curses and obligatory whining while furiously retelling the story.

 _“Alright, listen. Lad. Tommo!”_ Niall stopped Louis from his never-ending complaints. “ _Stop being a baby! You’re a football player for Christ’s sake! You get hurt like this all the time”_ Niall reiterated which definitely halted Louis from his tirade. _First the doctor, now Niall?_

“What are you on about? Whose side are you on?” Louis countered. “I’m telling you, Neil, Harry is Satan himself. I was wrong all along! He’s not Santa, he’s Satan!”

_“Listen, I think I know where this is coming from. You’re frustrated, Tommo. Sexually frustrated. Experience tells me sexual frustration comes out in different ways. Then, enter beautiful curly Santa man-boy in the form of your neighbour, Harry Styles. And to make things even worse for you, Harry is basically the sum of everything you loathe and you find yourself eating your own shite because you’re starting to like him. There I said it!”_

Louis, for the second time that day, fell silent. He hated being corrected, but most of all, he detested it when _they_ _were_ , in fact, right. His feelings about Harry were at polar opposite ends of the spectrum at that very moment. He felt a little confused, but mostly angry… at himself. It's like his head and his heart were engaged in a snowball fight and they were both taking pretty heavy fire.

“I knew it! You were never on my side. Traitor! Pass the phone to Zayner.”

The call ended in curses and vulgarity, all of which came from Louis’ side.

“I fucking hate you both!” he screamed at his phone, because in all honesty, Niall and Zayn did have a point. It hit him hard, and right in the face, but instead of embracing it with open arms, he decided to turn a blind eye to the whole ‘Harry feelings’ situation. Who was Louis Tomlinson if he didn’t put up a fight?

Louis panicked a little when he realised that the sedative had mostly worn off and frantically looked around for his pill bottles. He was relieved when he spied them sitting next to a glass of water on the end table by the couch, thanks to his neighbor of course. He tried to listen in on the usual music from Harry’s dancing Christmas lights and attempted to push himself up the couch so he could peek outside his window but realised that Harry didn’t turn on any of the outside decorations. _Hmm. Strange._

He blew out the candle and resettled himself back down in the surprisingly comfortable blanket fort and was asleep within minutes.

 

* * *

 

#####  _17 December 2017 (Sunday)_

Louis woke up the next day with unbearable pain all over his body. His back felt like it could crumble at any time if he made one wrong move. That’s why he stayed on the couch that night, in the exact same spot and same state that Harry left him. He was only realising now how that was one of the biggest mistakes he had ever made in the entirety of his human existence. Well, that and the ‘Dirty Dancing’ scene with Harry. Alright, so basically, he had been making poor life choices the past few days, and all of it seemed to be in the presence of a certain someone. Someone he didn’t really want to name, but he was already thinking it. He woke up with Harry on the brain.

Louis didn’t bother to get up from the comfortable bed that Harry had made for him on the couch. His right leg was resting on top of a few cushions and he was still laying flat on his back under his warm fuzzy blankets when he heard a barely audible sound of a key turning in the lock coming from his door. He kept his eyes shut as he listened to the creak of it being carefully opened and shut, followed by light footsteps approaching him.

“Louis!” Harry squealed in surprise, as he pushed in a fully loaded food trolley. “I assumed you would still be asleep so I went ahead and made some food for you at my place but I was just going to leave this here for when you woke up.” Harry rang the butler bell he brought for him for an added effect of his service.

Louis struggled to sit upright on the couch and greet Harry.

“Go on then.” He dramatically waved Harry off towards the kitchen.

“Sorry that I came barging in. I tried to slip in unnoticed. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“What if you _did_ wake me up? What are you gonna _do_ about it?” Louis interrogated but he meant for it to come out playfully. _Friendly banter never hurt, right?_ But the curly headed man's reaction addressed Louis’ concerns immediately. He noticed the sudden shift in Harry’s glowing aura. He looked meek and tiny with his shoulders slouched down and head dipped low as if he were carrying the weight of the world on them.

“Chill Harry, I was just messing with you.” Louis drawled as he let out a huge yawn.  

Harry quickly regained his composure as he walked off into the kitchen pushing the trolley.

“I have prepared you a proper English breakfast! I know you miss home. I’ll make this feel like home.”

Louis barely even heard the last line and he hoped his ears hadn’t deceived him. But he didn’t make an effort to ask Harry to repeat it as he was content with his assumption. Instead, he gathered his crutches and unsteadily followed Harry into the kitchen.

He was met with the curly lad unpacking the food and placing items into his refrigerator.

“What do you get when you cross a Christmas tree with an apple? -- A pineapple!” He finished his own joke, not waiting for Louis to react.

“Ugh! I hate pineapple!”

Harry swallowed dryly, forcing a smile to cover his fallen face.

“Why don’t you give it a try first and let me know if you love it afterwards? Everybody loves pineapple upside down cake.”

They ate breakfast in silence. _Comfortable silence really isn’t overrated,_ Louis thought to himself.

“What do you call a person who doesn't have an opinion about eggnog?” Harry broke the silence as he stood up to clean their plates.

“Oh, definitely not me! I have strong opinions about it and bad ones.”

“Lou…” Harry drawled.

“What then?”

“Eggnog-stic!” Harry blurted out with a huge grin, as his eyebrows danced on his forehead.

“Wait! No. No. No way! You are not going to make eggnog, are you? Just the name of it sounds gross. Nu-uh!” Louis announced, traces of panic were evident in his voice.

“Well, it’s going to be your loss. My eggnog is pretty special!” Harry boasted.

“What’s so special with ‘milky gross eggs whipped with rum and shattered dreams?’ Drinking eggnog is like drinking someone else’s vomit!” Genuine disgust and repulsion filled Louis’ face. Just the thought of it made his guts turn inside out.

“Why don’t you load the movie while I prepare this lovely concoction?” Harry pulled out a DVD from his back pocket and handed it over to Louis.

“Lovely concoction? More like awful convulsions!” Louis scoffed and distracted himself by reading the DVD in his hand.

“The Holiday?” Louis asked scandalised, completely forgetting the eggnog issue. The irony of Harry’s movie choice wasn’t totally lost on him; an American woman and an English woman switching locations during Christmas. That plot line hit close to home for him.

“It’s one of the best Christmas movies ever!” Harry defended as he placed the eggnog ingredients on the countertop and moved around the kitchen seamlessly.

“I’m really starting to question your choices, Styles. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt on this one. The eggnog though, still no.” Louis stated as he hobbled his way to the living room.  

Louis was already draped in a warm quilt and propped up comfortably in his fort on the couch with a remote in his right hand, when Harry ambled into the living room, hips swaying as he pushed the trolley with two mugs containing a mysterious white substance, what Louis presumed was Harry’s special eggnog.  

Louis loudly patted the cushion next to him as an invitation for Harry to sit there, _next to him_ , and for added effect he rang the bell to get Harry’s attention.

“Harold, I need my pillows fluffed and my leg elevated. As per doctor’s orders.” Louis said in his most authoritative tone as he pressed play.

“Yes, my liege.” Harry answered with an over exaggerated bow as the opening scene started.

Louis decided that he didn’t have anything better to do that day anyway. Besides, it wasn’t like he could drive himself anywhere. So, he decided to make do with his neighbour’s company and indulge in his offered butler services.

At some point during the film, Louis noticed that he was watching Harry mouth along with Kate Winslet’s lines instead of watching the movie itself.

_“Oh god, just the sight of him! Heart pounding! Throat thickening! Absolutely can't swallow! All the usual symptoms. I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible.”_

Louis didn’t think that Harry was small or insignificant at all. In fact, he was starting to think that he didn’t mind how Harry had barged into his house like he walked into Louis’ life, uninvited, alternatively, Louis found himself not bothered by it at all. He had realised that Harry’s presence seemed to be one of the constants in his life, like a star and not just a moving part.

He found himself reaching out for the other mug of eggnog on the trolley after he had scraped the plate of the pineapple cake clean. He was, intrigued, because Harry had gone to the kitchen twice already since they started the movie and came back with a fully refilled mug.

Louis handed Harry a tissue at the end of the movie when all the love declarations had been made because he noticed that he had been trying to hide his tears.

“That wasn’t so bad.”

“Really?” Asked Harry in between sniffles. “The pineapple upside down cake, the movie or the eggnog?”

“Look, I’m sorry for lashing out at you last night.” Louis apologised, swerving from the topic at hand as per usual.

“No, Lou, it’s not your fault. It’s… I’m really terribly sorry. I genuinely feel bad about the whole situation.”

“Alright, well that’s settled then.” Louis sighed his content.

“So my choices aren’t so bad after all, yeah?” Harry quipped.

“Give it a rest, Styles.” Louis replied as he gulped the remaining eggnog in his second refilled mug. And if he went overboard with the butler bell, well, he really couldn’t be blamed.

 

* * *

 

#####  _23 December 2017 (Saturday)_

Harry woke up to the sound of low moans he had, apparently, been making in his sleep. He tried to recall exactly what position Louis was in before he moaned himself awake. He took a few minutes to collect himself before checking his clock and _Shit!,_ it was already five past eight in the morning, _so much for a shower._ He rushed around to get dressed and was already trying to figure out the quickest way to the restaurant when he remembered, he had an app for that! He flew out of the house with the ‘Waze’ app pulled up on his phone.

He pressed the button on his key to unlock his car door and was reaching out for the handle when his hand was obstructed by, _a film?_ He froze where he stood, eyes wide as he took in the image before him: his beloved HR-V wrapped in the most obnoxious wrapping paper he had ever seen, with a huge sparkly rainbow ribbon on top. He had seen and used a lot of them, but nothing could compare to this shiny and glittered wrapper. He had to shield his eyes from the blinding spectrum of colors being reflected off the [ holographic paper](http://asset1.marksandspencer.com/is/image/mands/HT_05_T21_2406V_NC_X_EC_0?%24PDP_MAXI_ZOOM_NEW%24).

He surveyed the streets, looking for the possible culprit and as he circled around his car, his questions were answered by a large card with a picture of a happy family, probably a stock photo, donning uniform Christmas jumpers. He was shaking his head in disbelief when he spotted a figure jogging his way out of the corner of his eyes. The mysterious figure was wearing a black hoodie, probably twice their size, and the shortest shorts that could rival and possibly defeat his own neon green shorts. He turned his head to face the stranger and, boy, was he surprised to see no other than the man whom he had started to believe was Santa’s punishment for making it to the naughty list. He took a moment to consider all of the possible deeds he had done for Santa to place him on the naughty list in the first place. Was it the time he used a fresh boxwood wreath instead of recycling last year’s? Or was it that time he turned down Martha’s invitation to date her daughter, who was, at the time, only seventeen?  
  
He was brought back to reality by soft and sweet like honey sniggers.

"That’s some big arse package you got there, Haz.”

“I know right?! I wonder who my Secret Santa might be…” He tapped his fingers on his chin in faux contemplation, “Such a menace. But, hey, I love it. It’s just that I have a special event at work this morning and my Secret Santa has been quite playful so far and this is... well, definitely playful, but I have somewhere to be!”

“Sucks to be you then.” The hooded figure shrugged and smacked Harry’s shoulder as he turned back to jog to his front porch.

“Not so fast, Tomlinson.” Harry grabbed hold of Louis’ hand and turned him around. He felt the warmth of the other man’s palm as electricity sparked the instant their skin touched.

Louis drew his hood down, his smooth fringe covered his ocean blue eyes. Harry swallowed, saliva coming unbidden and felt like he could drown in those ocean eyes. The sunlight reflected from them so brightly that his gaze could melt all the snow.

Louis snapped his fingers that brought Harry back to the present.

“Earth to Harold.”

Harry only then noticed that he was still holding Louis’ hand, he quickly let go and for a moment, let his nervousness show by dragging a hand through his hair, mussing it up. He twisted his wrist to check the time.

“Dammit! I’m late already and certainly have no time to ‘unwrap’ my car.” Harry ‘accidentally’ checked out Louis as his eyes scanned down his body, noticing that his right leg was boot-free. _He had just been jogging, right?_ It was like a light bulb appeared over his head.

"I see that you're all healed," he said pointing to Louis’ right leg. "Do you mind driving me to work? Please?” He batted his eyelashes exaggeratedly, one trick he swore by that always got him what he wanted.

“Oh...I’m uh.” Louis seemed flustered, which could only mean one thing - Harry’s trick was working. “Uh yeah, sure. Let me just grab my car keys.” And just like that, Louis bolted to his house as quick as lightning and he was back in less than a minute.

Harry walked over to the black Range Rover, as Louis pressed the key to unlock the door, and climbed in confidently. It was good to sit in the seat of a luxury SUV, he felt like he was being chauffeured to work. He decided that he wouldn't mind if this became a routine for him. Being driven to work, in a high end automobile, with Louis at the helm. Oh that is the dream!  

Louis turned the ignition and Freddie Mercury greeted them with a longing question blasting from his car’s speakers, _“Can anybody find me somebody to love?”_

They both turned to each other in amazement and surprise, as smiles filled their faces, their eyes exchanged unspoken words.

“I have spent all my years in believing you. But I just can't get no relief, Lord! Somebody, somebody. Can anybody find me somebody to love?” They sang together in perfect harmony as Louis sped off.

“Nice jam!” Harry finally spoke after belting out the last lines to _Somebody To Love_.

“A wise man once said, ‘the first song that plays in your car says a lot about the person driving it.’”

“Who said that?” Harry asked curiously.

“Me. Keep up, Harold!” Louis winked at Harry, his face full of fond.

___

Unfortunately, the drive from their home to the RBB was a smooth flow, which was weird for the eve of Christmas Eve. Harry was expecting to get caught in a traffic jam for at least half an hour. He decided to enjoy the luxury SUV sound system in the limited amount of time he had.The smaller man swatted his hand away in a playful manner as the car halted.

“We have reached your destination, Master Harold _Enrique_ Styles.” Louis announced.

“It’s actually just Harry. And my middle name’s Edward. Just Harry _Edward_ Styles.” Harry realised that he never corrected Louis from the very first time the other man had called him that. He had actually gotten used to it, the wrong name was music to his ears.

“Very posh. I’m impressed. Props to your parentals.” Louis nodded as he tapped Harry’s shoulder. Their eyes met, again, for the second time that day, and they held it a moment longer than necessary before Louis broke it off with a wink. “Don’t want to keep you from your patrons, Styles.”

Harry shut his eyes in anticipation when he saw Louis was leaning in close to him. He heard a giggle and a clicking sound and when he opened his eyes, he saw Louis’ smug grin as he pulled the seatbelt off of Harry’s waist. His head swam with unrequited expectation as he struggled to open the door so he could vacate the Range Rover.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.” Louis stated just as Harry pushed the car door shut. He made an attempt to open the door again to tell Louis that “ _Yes, eight is okay,”_ with his grabby hands but Louis had already driven off before he could even reach the handle.   

Harry felt like he was skipping as he walked in the restaurant. He probably did a little shimmy dance along the way but no one was around for him to tell and he really didn’t care. He was basically on cloud nine.

___

Harry loved being at the RBB, it was after all, his baby. But in all honesty, his priorities that day had shifted to something else, _someone_ else. Someone with caramel hair and a penchant for tracksuits. He just couldn’t wait any longer or he might combust with anticipation. So when the clock finally struck eight, he was already right outside the door.

Liam had actually offered to drive him home when Harry had shared his car situation from that morning, but he assured the worried lad that he had already arranged for a private chauffeur. His statement left a satisfied look on Liam’s face, whatever the other guy’s expression meant, Harry couldn't care less because his knight in shining armour was already waiting for him outside of the restaurant.

To Harry’s surprise, Louis was engaged in a pretty serious discussion with Liam, but his charming lad slash chauffeur stopped in the middle of his discourse the moment he saw Harry. Liam quirked his eyebrows up and took a sidestep to give way as Louis rushed out to open the car door.

“Your highness,” Louis greeted as he bowed before him.

“Thank you.” Harry wanted to be concerned with how his neighbour had been acting since that morning, but he decided to reserve whatever worry he had for another time. He would rather revel in the moment than question it and regret missing out on something as special as what he had been sharing with Louis for the past few days.

A big smile crept onto Harry’s face the moment they parked into Louis’ spot. The sight of his wrapped car brought back memories from that morning’s situation, a gag courtesy of his charming Secret Santa.

“So what are you going to do about that?” Louis’ honey voice snapped him from his deep thoughts.

“Unwrap it, obviously. I do know how to appreciate gifts, especially _big_ ones like this.” Harry saw Louis’ adam’s apple bob in response as the smaller lad unbuckled Harry’s seat belt, _again,_ and rushed out off the Range Rover to open his door for him.

Harry’s face was filled with a mixture of anticipation and worry, but most of all fondness - fondness and admiration particularly towards the person walking beside him as he made his way to his wrapped car.

“Before you even ask, my answer is no. I’m not gonna help you unwrap that thing. _I didn’t even help wrap it.”_ Louis muttered the last line to himself.

Christmas baubles rolled out of Harry’s HR-V the moment he opened the car door. The whole car was filled with different types of Christmas decorations, so full that it looked like a Home Depot Christmas caravan. Well, either that or his vehicle was used for a Christmas heist.

There was an A2 size Christmas card on the driver’s seat. He removed it just as more Christmas baubles rolled out of his car.

_To: Harry “Curly” Styles_

_From: Your Secret Santa (“Why did Santa go to college for music? So he could improve his wrapping skills!)_

___

_Earlier that day…_

_Louis welcomed a sleepy Liam into his house in the wee hours of the morning. The clock had just struck five A.M.; probably the earliest Louis had ever willingly woken up. Liam had brought with him donuts and two cups of freshly brewed coffee along with the Christmas paraphernalia that Louis requested. Needless to say, Louis graciously allowed Liam  to do most of the work by being overly dramatic and whiny about how he was still healing from his severely sprained ankle, even though his ankle was totally healed. What Liam didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. So Louis milked it as much as he could, to the extent of even putting back on the cumbersome walking boot. He used his crutches to direct Liam’s attention to where things needed to be placed as he sat on the front porch in a folding chair with his leg propped up. He was comfortably wrapped in a cozy blanket, Santa mittens (from his Secret Santa) warmed his hands while Liam sweated his arse off in the cold December morning. In his defense, Liam had offered to help with this shenanigan and Louis would have been rude to turn him down. It was a great chemistry test for the both of them, too. Bless Liam’s pure heart and golden soul, Louis might just keep him forever._

 

* * *

 

#####  _24 December 2017 (Sunday, Christmas Eve)_

_At the young age of six, Louis realised that having his birthday fall on Christmas Eve was in fact a curse that he had to live with for the rest of his life. When kids his age looked forward to receiving Christmas presents aplenty, he had always felt that he had to compete with the superficial holiday -- and the baby Jesus -- to get everyone’s attention. To add insult to injury, he would only receive one present to compensate for both celebrations and the combined present was often wrapped in Christmas paper. And so he was always faced with the dilemma whether to open it on his birthday or on Christmas Day. He couldn’t even get his own special day, for fuck’s sake! Not that he was narcissistic, he just really wanted to feel special like most everyone else. Was he being petty? Was he selfish? Was he asking too much? Was it too much to ask to have his own day?_

Louis woke up with fifteen missed calls and another came in as he unlocked his phone.

“ _For he’s a jolly good fellow, for he’s a jolly good fellow. For he’s a jolly good fellooooow. And nobody can deny! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOMMO!”_ Came from the sing-song voices in perfect harmony from the other end of the line.

Louis knew who his callers were but he still checked his screen just to make sure he was not dreaming, he caught a quick glimpse of the time: six thirty A.M.

“Fuck’s sakes mates! I appreciate it and all that you lovebirds remembered my birthday, but it’s too damn early.” Louis complained, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stretched his other arm.

_“Well, sucks for you, it’s afternoon over here!”_

“Well, fuck you two! I’m going back to sleep.” Louis complained, already prepared to end the call but he was halted by a cacophony of boisterous laughter coming from Niall and Zayn.

_“Are ya up for a game of FIFA, birthday boy?”_

Louis would have complained if it wasn’t for the fact that he missed his agent and best friend terribly, also he was already wide awake from Niall’s loudness. But instead, he dragged himself into his entertainment room and turned on his PS4. He was still on the line with Niall and Zayn, so he was utterly surprised when he saw what appeared to be a beach screensaver with a snowman made of sand. _A sandman?_ He was so sure that it wasn’t there before and that in no way had he customised his screen. Suddenly, familiar faces, wearing summer clothes, bikinis and boardshorts, coming from different directions, appeared on the screen. Louis’ mum, stepdad, and all six of his siblings, started talking all in one go, “Wish you were here Lou!”, “We missed you terribly son.”, “We love you! Talk to you soon!” Ernest and Doris were the last to greet, the video panned to them playing on the shore next to the sandman. “We miss you achoo. Lav ya!”

Louis was speechless. He was not expecting this at all. Yes of course, he was sure his entire family would squeeze a time in their day to call him. But this was quite heartwarming to say the least. He had long forgotten that he was still on the line with Niall and Zayn until he heard some smooching.

“Ugh, gross!”

“ _Shut up!” Shouted Niall and Zayn in unison._

“You planned all this? You cheeky bastards!”

“ _Nah, we’re too busy for that Tommo. It’s from your Curly, *cough* I mean, your Secret Santa. Bye!”_

___ 

Later that night Louis heard carols from outside his home. He rolled his eyes as he walked to the door and opened it, mustering his sassiness to shoo them off. But to his surprise, stood at his front yard were his neighbours, led by no other than Harry, each holding a candle in one hand and a cupcake in the other. They ended their carols with a harmonising rendition of Happy Birthday in a Christmas medley and they quickly dispersed back to their own homes after handing Louis his cupcakes.

As terrible as it may have seemed, Louis wished his ankle wasn’t fully healed yet, just so that he could ring Harry’s butler bell and get him rushing to his side in seconds. And as if Harry heard his thought, he walked towards Louis, meeting him at his doorstep.

“Happy Birthday Lou!” Harry greeted.

Louis smiled back in response, unable to form a cohesive statement and noticed a small box that Harry held in one of his hands.

“Oh, um, I got you this. For your birthday. Obviously.” Harry said bashfully.

“Harry, you didn’t have to. But, thank you.” Louis replied, his face oozing with fondness for the curly lad standing in front of him.

“Do you-” Louis began his invitation to welcome Harry inside but was cut off.

“I better get going. I have, um, it’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow Lou.” Harry stepped backwards as he attempted to make a graceful exit.   

“Oh and Haz! Don’t worry about the contest. We got it in the bag. We’re the dream team, remember?” Louis called back to Harry as the curly lad stumbled into the pink flamingos stood in the middle of their shared yard.

Louis quickly unwrapped the gift box as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom, discarding the pieces of wrapping paper aimlessly along the way. He sat at the foot of his bed as he opened the box and gently took out the familiar butler bell that was now adorned with a leafy accent, of what Louis could only assume, was a piece of mistletoe. He searched the box inside and out for any notes, he was so used to reading those puns from his Secret Santa, but to his disappointment, there were none. He retraced his steps from the staircase down to his front door then back up again, hoping that he might have tossed the note somewhere along the way, but dismay crept up his spine. He laid on his bed as he tried to shove the thoughts towards the back of his head. Maybe, it’s just a gift. Nothing to read between the lines, literally.

___ 

_'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house_  
_Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;_  
_The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,_  
_In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;_  
_The children were nestled all snug in their beds;_  
_While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads;_  
_And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,_  
_Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,_  
_When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,_  
_I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter._

Louis found himself nauseous from, what he could only assume, was the copious amounts of birthday cupcakes from his neighbours that he had for dinner. There was a bubbly feeling in his stomach and the most logical explanation would probably be, diarrhea. Or, could it be that… His thoughts were disrupted by a loud bang on his roof.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked himself aloud. An image of a heavily bearded man dressed in a velvety red suit was the first thing that came up to mind. But he quickly shut the thought down, _you’re too old for that Tomlinson._ He barely even noticed that the clock read five A.M. as he left the room to go survey the damage. Since his sleep was already thrown off, he decided to head out and inspect for a possible intruder. He made a quick stop at his kitchen to grab a weapon, and the first thing he saw was the whisk he was gifted from his Secret Santa. What good was that going to be in fighting off an attacker? What was he going to do with a _golden_ whisk? Give them a history lesson in whisking and hope that that will bore them to death? Instead, he opted for a rolling pin he didn’t even know he had.

Armed with a rolling pin and still in his fuzzy socks and sleepwear - which was actually a tracksuit, good thing it was cold that night otherwise he would have been naked - Louis tiptoed out of his house. He swung his arm with all his might at a figure hanging by the gutter of his  porch. He stopped after a few hits when he realised that he looked like a kid hitting a piñata in the middle of dawn. He gasped as realisation hit him, ironically, that he had been hitting Larry Stylinson, the alleged intruder. There was no burglar, apparently, a gust of wind had knocked him off the roof because there was no other trace of what might have caused the reindeer and its sleigh to dislodge itself. And he basically, just beat the hell out of Larry.

Louis’ instincts told him to unplug the lights before Larry’s broken bulbs could result in a short circuit and he congratulated himself for thinking fast. How he managed to get up his roof without a ladder was a total wonder to him but he decided that his mind had better things to do than worry about what was already done. He reminded himself to calm down as panic inhibited his system from looking down.

“You believed in Santa for six years, Tommo, now believe in yourself, even for just 10 seconds. You can do it!” He cheered himself on as he tied the cable lights around Larry’s neck so he could pull it back up onto the roof.

“Bloody fucking reindeer! All I wanted was to have some peace and quiet. Fuck Christmas! Fuck you Larry! Fuck this roof! Fucking fuck!” He shouted as he hauled Larry back up by his neck and swore with all his might when the reindeer’s head was finally in his line of sight. Just when he was about to do his victory dance, he heard a piercing shriek from below.

“Mr. Tomlinson?!” Martha screamed out his name in terror, the kind of scream one would usually hear in a horror movie scene with intense hair raising background music.

The noose around Larry’s neck came untied, causing the reindeer to fall flat on the ground. The impact was so loud, Louis was sure half of the neighbourhood was now awake.

“Shh! Martha, calm down.” He tried to hush his slandering neighbour, but it was already too late.  He felt goosebumps travel down his spine as he heard the door being opened and shut from Harry’s side of the house.

He saw Harry clutch his robe, as he looked up measurably towards Louis and then back to Larry in the ground. Harry’s eyes were filled with tears and his face wore a mixed look of sadness and disappointment. Louis wanted to explain what happened, but he just couldn’t find the right words to say, so he started off with an, “I’m sorry Harry.” He hadn’t even finished yet, hell, he hadn’t even started explaining himself yet when Martha rushed out accusations at him.

"Oh you really should be, Mr. Tomlinson! After all of Harry's hard work, you go and do something like this. Shame on you!”

"You shut your trap, Martha!" Louis hissed back and watched as Harry wiped his tears away, his bottom lip quivered as he said, "Yeah. I'm sorry too, Lou." He slumped his shoulders as he dragged his feet inside his house, head downcast.

Well that was a shit way to end his birthday, Louis thought. _Stupid fucking Martha and her loud mouth!_ Louis had a plan, but none of it involved hurting Harry, or making him cry. If Martha had just kept out of their business, Harry never would have known this had ever happened!  

He would have fixed the decoration and they totally would have won the contest. But no, fucking Martha had to show up right at that very moment! After all he and Harry had been through, he felt awful that this was what broke Harry. The sight of him standing there, looking so small and devastated broke Louis’ heart. Harry had found him in a very incriminating situation, Louis could admit that, but he was only up there trying to fix it. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time! And Harry had been too. He never wanted Harry to feel betrayed by him, but if the look on his face tonight was anything to go by, that was exactly what he felt. Louis would fix this! But before anything else, he had to figure out how the hell he was going to get down off the roof. He had left his cellphone by his bedside table and there was no way he was going to ask for anyone’s help after all the drama that had just happened, besides he didn’t want anyone else to see him on the roof.

 

* * *

 

#####  _25 December 2017 (Monday, Christmas Day)_

The sun was barely making its appearance on the horizon when he saw a vehicle turn in and park behind his Range Rover. He shielded his eyes with his hands to avoid the sun’s glare off the windshield, when he heard his name being called out by a familiar voice, from someone he wasn’t expecting at all.

“TOMMO! What are you doing up there mate? Have ya gone mad?!” Inquired Louis’ agent.

“Oh thank heavens, Niall! What are you doing here?” Louis heard the car door open and shut as the sight before him took him by surprise. “And Zayn? What’s going on? Did I die of hypothermia and go to hell?”

“You’re delirious Lou.” Zayn greeted. “Stay where you are.” The Greek god instructed as he struggled to hold in his laughter and pull out his phone to snap a few incriminating pictures of Louis on top of his roof. He then proceeded to walk back to their car and return with a ladder in both hands.

“Surprise, surprise!” Niall shouted from the ground as he explained the reason why they had arrived earlier than Louis had expected.  

Zayn propped up the ladder against the house and climbed on the roof to rescue the damsel in distress that was Louis.

“What surprise?” Louis shouted back as he held on to Zayn as if his life depended on him, which was probably true at that moment.

“Our parents decided to join your family in Sydney! They left that day we called you up. We were actually packing our bags as we spoke to you on the phone. Did you think I would let you spend Christmas alone, Lou? You think so little of me?” Niall placed his hand to his heart in an attempt to look hurt. But Niall wasn’t fooling anyone with his huge smile.

Niall draped the warmest quilt he could find over Louis as the shivering lad stepped onto the ground. Zayn stayed up on the roof and rearranged the fallen reindeer back to where it was stood before the dreaded incident took place. Larry looked decent, except for a hole in his ear, but thanks to Zayn it was unnoticeable.

“How long have you been up there and for what purpose exactly?” Niall asked as he handed Louis a steaming cuppa and ushered him inside his own home. Zayn followed suit after propping the ladder neatly against Louis’ front porch.

“I would rather not talk about it, Niall.” Louis voiced as he took a sip of his tea to cure his aching soul.

The couple exchanged looks of understanding as they led Louis up to his bedroom, tucking him in until slumber overcame him.

___ 

Louis woke up around lunchtime to the smell of bacon and toast coming from downstairs. He walked towards the direction of the kitchen where he saw Niall and Zayn making out on his countertop.

“STOP! That is just gross! How dare you two mar the holiness of my kitchen. Get a room!”

“You’re welcome.” The loved up couple said as they handed a breakfast plate to Louis and assisted him to his chair.

“Thanks mum and dad!” Louis stood up and enveloped them in an embrace as he kissed both of their foreheads, not questioning where the food came from.

“What do you want?” Niall asked with a huge smile on his face, as if this was a frequent occurrence in ‘their household.’

Louis sat down in a chair and pounced on the English breakfast in front of him, and talked in between bites.

“You guys are the worst! But whatever. Anyway, I need your help.” Louis laid out his plan to the very attentive couple.

Zayn arched his brow and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned in and made a purring sound from Niall’s fingers making a knot in his hair as they listened to Louis’ plan.

Louis would like to believe that what had happened the morning before was nothing but a nightmare, but instead decided to face reality and make it right.

He went straight to Harry’s after they had devised a plan on how to win him back. He knocked and pounded on Harry’s door until his hands were sore, but only then did he look up to see that Harry’s car was gone and the lot was empty. So much for his attempt to confront Harry at home. He quickly took out his phone to call Harry instead. _No answer._ He then proceeded to call Liam but to his dismay, his new best friend didn’t answer his calls either.

He stomped back across the yard and had planned on lashing out his frustrations on his friends.  He expected to find them sleeping but instead he found them wide awake, with Zayn on top of Niall. Thank God they were wrapped in blankets! He might have to go for some counselling after that, and made a mental note to knock on the door from now on.

He decided to drive to the RBB, assuming that’s where he would find his curly lad. He passed by an antique shop along the way and decided to check it out, hoping he would find a decent peace offering for Harry and maybe help smooth over the situation. He was quickly drawn to three particular rings that he believed would look good on Harry’s delicate fingers. He had noticed previously that Harry wore different pieces before but he had never really commented on them because just the thought of Harry’s hands made him think of inappropriate situations. He didn’t think twice before he purchased them.

“These are lovely rings. For someone special I suppose?” The old lady behind the counter inquired.

Louis nodded his response with a painful smile as the image of his crying neighbour flashed in his memory. The past few days he had spent with Harry made him realise how large of a presence he was becoming in his life. He was, without a doubt, special to Louis. Not that he planned on proposing to Harry with these rings, but it was a thought that his mind could easily entertain.

He thanked Barbara, the owner, and promised her he would come back with his giftee so he could show him more of the selection that she raved on about. Louis stepped out of the shop, full of hope that this would somehow appease Harry.

When he made it to the restaurant, Louis was met with a huge sign plastered on RBB’s door that read: ‘Sorry, we’re closed.’ All of Louis’ hope came crashing down. Harry was definitely ignoring him and he had no idea where the curly lad could be. He hadn’t even received any calls or texts from Liam.

He decided to drive back home, distraught and with a heavy heart, having ran out of places to look for Harry.

___

“How will I win him back if I don’t even know where the hell he is? Is he not celebrating Christmas because I’ve ruined the fucking reindeer? This was all Martha’s fault. That fucking Stepford-wife that sounds an awful lot like a drunk Julia Child!”

“Who’s Martha?” Niall asked at the same time Zayn asked, “Julia Child?”

“Martha is the wife of Lucifer! Julia Child is Harry’s favourite chef. You’re not paying attention to me!” Louis glared at the couple wrapped in each other’s arms, as he stomped his feet out of the kitchen and into his living area and slumped onto the couch.

Niall and Zayn talked Louis into another plan which involved simply staying at home, waiting for Harry to show up and celebrating Christmas that evening. Louis fought his urge to curse again as he tried to settle down and patiently wait for him to come back, although patience was not a virtue of his.

“I don’t even have any food here! What are we going to do when he shows up? If he even shows up, cause I don’t know where the fuck he is!”

Niall suggested that they check the fridge so they could whip up something that they could eat while they waited.

“I wouldn’t touch the fridge. There’s nothing in there except for whip cream and mini quiches that look like a science experiment. Why can’t we just order in some pizza?” Louis complained, which earned him a smack upside the head from Niall and a deadly glare from Zayn.

“Are ya really gonna eat pizza on Christmas?” Niall asked in agitation.

“Well, have you got better suggestions then?” Louis snapped back.

“Lads, even if we wanted pizza, it’s Christmas Day. Everything is closed anyway and besides it’s already past nine o’clock.” Zayn cut in.

The three of them rummaged through Louis’ cabinets in search of food but only ended up finding stale bread and crisps. Niall had the genius idea to prepare for them what he called ‘[The Ultimate Irish snack that will save Christmas](https://i2-prod.irishmirror.ie/news/irish-news/article5894262.ece/ALTERNATES/s615b/Tayto-crisp-sandwich.jpg).' Basically, it consisted of slabs of white bread, lashings of butter and crisps - a crisp sandwich.

They were in the middle of their second serving when Louis heard a car turn in and saw headlights flash through the windows. Without thinking, he dropped his “Irish Snack” mid-bite and ran out of the house. He only realised then that he wasn’t wearing any shoes and his socks were starting to get wet from the melting snow under his feet and his toes were tingling.

Another car pulled in behind the flower-petal and Louis raised his arm to shield his eyes from the headlights. He could barely make out a silhouette walking towards him and as the figure approached, his heart started to race.

He felt a tug on his sleeve lowering his arm and he finally got to see the person he had been hunting the whole day staring right at him. _Harry._

All of the trouble and worry he had put himself through that day trying to prepare and plan a Christmas reunion, just melted away. He couldn’t form a single cohesive thought with Harry standing in front of him. He felt like he was back up on the roof again, looking down on his neighbour, as he stood there speechless.

“Louis, what are you doing out here? Where’s your shoes?” Harry finally broke the silence.

“Oh, Harry, thank God! You’re not mad at me are you? I’m really sorry I ruined Christmas for you. I’m sorry that Larry fell off the roof. It wasn’t me, I swear. I was only up there trying to fix him. I woke up and thought there was a burglar and turns out it was only Larry. And Martha, fucking Martha! She ruined everything!” Louis blurted out, not answering either of Harry’s questions.

“Lou, slow down. Why don’t we get you warmed up inside, yeah?” Harry took a hold of Louis’ hand and ushered him into his home.

Louis realised that he hadn’t really been inside of Harry’s home alone with him before. Harry’s home felt different, yet familiar at the same time. It felt like ‘home away from home.’ He stood in the foyer unable to decide if he should be following Harry into the kitchen without his invitation.

“Lou?” Harry called, answering his unspoken question.

He removed his wet socks, walked into the kitchen and climbed up on a bar stool.

“Harry, we need to talk.” Louis started just as Harry placed a wrapped package on the countertop.

“Okay. Sure, what’s up? By the way, that’s for you.” Harry sat on a bar stool across from Louis.

“Where the fuck have you been all day? I looked for you everywhere, I went to the restaurant and I went to your house. I didn't know where to look for you. I need to talk to you about the reindeer thing. I saw you crying, Harry. I saw you crying and it broke my heart. I just want to tell you that I didn't do it. I didn’t do anything to sabotage the contest! It was all Martha’s fault!” Louis rushed out all in one breath.

“You were looking for me?” Harry questioned as he handed Louis some towels for his feet.

“Well look at your phone, I called you a thousand times.” Louis said exasperatedly.  

“I’ve had it on silent all day. I’ve been at a soup kitchen in Denver with Liam and Sophia.” The other man explained.

“I was really worried, Harry. I thought you were avoiding me.”

“No, Louis, I wasn’t avoiding you. Niall and Zayn knew where I was. In fact, I called Niall this morning and asked him and Zayn to come over with a ladder to get you off the roof. I even prepared an English breakfast for you guys before I left this morning. Niall said you were asleep so I didn’t want to bother your peace.”

“What the fuck! Are you kidding me? I spent all day with them. I knew that breakfast was special. Thank you, Harry. Anyway, um, I need to tell you something.”

“Okay?”

“I have always hated Christmas. I always thought it was such a superficial holiday and all I ever wanted was for it to be over... until I met you. You made it special. I knew you were my Secret Santa the whole time, that was never much of a secret. And you, Harry, you just. You are just always you, always full of sunshine and rainbows. Never mean. Always nice. I thought you were different. I thought you were faking it this whole time. But you weren’t. You’ve given meaning to Christmas again, for me at least. You brought me food. You took care of me. You gave me _useful_ presents. You set up a birthday video from my family. I mean, you‘re just… so wonderful. And I - I can’t thank you enough. And I’m so sorry I put you through hell. I really didn’t mean to make you cry or ever hurt you. I’m sorry. And,” Louis paused to breathe. “And I think I… I love you.”

Harry sat there in silence as tears filled his eyes.

Louis nervously awaited his response. When there wasn’t one, he whispered, “Harry? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just. That’s a lot.” Harry took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. “Honestly, I think I had fallen for you before I ever met you. I know that’s weird but Niall had already told me so much that I felt like I already knew _Louis Tomlinson_. Seeing you up on the roof this morning was heartbreaking because I thought you were trying to undo everything we had done. All the decorations, I mean. And then Martha was screaming and saying you did it on purpose. I didn’t want to believe that. I never did actually. I just got caught up in the moment. You have nothing to aplogise for. I didn’t really care about the contest, Lou. I only did it to be around you. And I think that… I love you too.”

This time it was Louis’ turn to cry. As tears streamed down his cheeks, he sprang from the bar stool and closed the gap between them as he pressed his lips to Harry’s. Harry’s arms wrapped around Louis’ waist and pulled him in even closer as Louis tangled his fingers in the taller man’s curls.

Louis savoured the moment. He finally had Harry exactly where he wanted him: in his life and in his arms. They stared at each other, taking in what had just happened. Before either could say anything, Louis’ stomach let out an angry growl.

“Sorry,” Louis laughed. “I haven't eaten much today. Was a bit preoccupied searching for _you._ ”

“Well that’s okay. I brought food.”

“Where exactly?”

“With Liam and Sophia, at your place. I wanted to surprise you with Christmas dinner. Shall we go on over?”

Louis’ stomach gurgled his response. “I guess that’s a yes!” he said as he walked towards the foyer and stepped into a pair of Harry’s black Vans. As soon as he had them laced, he walked back into the kitchen and snatched the gift off the countertop and said, “I believe this is mine!” And gave Harry a quick peck on the lips, “And now you are too!”

___

Louis stormed through his door with Harry following him only to find that everyone had already crowded in the kitchen and was eating the food that Harry had prepared which consisted of roast turkey, potatoes, carrots, brussels sprouts, gravy, and Yorkshire pudding - proper British Christmas feast.

After he had placed his gift from Harry under the tree, he immediately focused his attention on Niall and Zayn as they were stuffing their faces full of food.

“You fucking wankers! I can’t believe you played me!” Harry attempted to sooth the raging Louis by running his palm along the lower part of the disgruntled lad’s back. But that didn’t stop Louis from throwing vulgarities at Niall and Zayn. “You watched me worry myself like a madman when all along, you fuckers, all along you knew where Harry was?!”

“Well, to be fair Lou, you didn’t exactly ask us if we knew where Harry was. You just kept bossing us around on your mission to win Harry back! Oh, you should’ve seen the look on your face. You’re bloody gone for him!” Niall explained.

“We didn’t want to halt your momentum. You were so hyped about it.” Zayn followed up.

“Why do you think we had a ladder in our car this morning? You didn’t even question it.” Niall continued.

“I don’t know what you carry in your car, you guys are weird. You weren’t even supposed to be here until tomorrow! You know what, fuck you both! And you too Liam, thanks for nothing!” Louis shook his head, but a smile escaped his face when Harry took his hand and traced patterns on his palm.

“I was busy at the soup kitchen.” Liam defended. “Thinking about it now, I remember mentioning it to you back when we were wrapping up Harry’s car.” Liam cupped his mouth with both of his hands but the secret was already out.

“What?! I didn’t know you dragged Liam into that stunt. I’m surprised he ever agreed to do it in the first place” Harry admitted.

“You should have called me Louis, I was free the whole time.” Sophia interjected.

“Well, you never gave me your number, Soph, did you?” Louis sassed back.

“Hey, don’t lash out at the missus.” Liam shielded Sophia with his arms from the verbal onslaught that was coming from Louis.

“Fine. Fine. Move over then, so we can eat too.” Louis said as he dragged Harry into the kitchen. They sidled up next to the others around the feast and began filling their own plates with food.

___

The three paired couples huddled in front of Louis’ fireplace while ‘A Christmas Story’ played on the telly. They were all donned in the gaudy jumpers that Harry had given each of them as presents.

Louis reached out to a box messily wrapped in blue wrapping paper that was under the Christmas tree.

“Happy Christmas, Harry!” Louis said, his teeth sparkled in a wide smile.

Harry grinned from ear to ear as he opened the box and shrieked in joy the moment he saw the contents of it.

“Oh Louis!”

“Barbara told me she has more rings comi-”

Harry surged forward and closed the distance between them before Louis could even finish his exposition. Their sweet kiss was abruptly cut off by the sound of a familiar bell.

Louis watched as Harry’s face turned beet red and assumed that he was mirroring the same shade, when he saw the bell in Liam’s hand as the lad rang it a couple times more.

“What’s this for?” Liam asked, as Sophia swatted his hand.

Louis quickly snatched the bell out of Liam’s hand and cradled it to his chest before kicking Liam in the shin.

“Mate? Come on!” Liam complained as he rubbed his leg.

“Do you like it?” Harry whispered his question to Louis completely ignoring Liam’s remark.

“What do you mean?” Louis coyly asked as he raised his arm and rang the bell over his head. “I love it.” He answered and as Harry leaned in, he shut his eyes and welcomed the curly lad’s lips for the third time that day.

“I could get used to this.” Louis confessed.

“At your service, my liege.” Harry said with a twinkle in his eyes as he handed over his gift for Louis to open.

Louis’ eyes widened in delight as he hastily unwrapped his present. The gift basket that Harry prepared for him contained a box of Yorkshire tea, The Sun and Daily Mail tabloids, McVitie’s Hobnobs, a mini croquet set, a London bus model, a packet of Walker’s shortbread biscuits, a large Galaxy caramel bar, and a bag of Flying Saucers.

“I wanted you to have a little bit of home for Christmas.” Harry explained.

“Well, my _fellow Brit_ , having you here by my side is home to me now.”  

 

* * *

 

#####  _26 December 2017 (Tuesday)_

_I don't want a lot for Christmas_  
_There is just one thing I need_  
_I don't care about the presents_  
_Underneath the Christmas tree_  
_I just want you for my own_  
_More than you could ever know_  
_Make my wish come true_  
_All I want for Christmas is you_

Louis used to wake up feeling drained and exhausted on Boxing Day. Having had to put up a happy facade as he forced himself to join the merry-making the day before, and actually having to put on another happy mask to survive yet another dreaded holiday. But that morning, he woke up content beside his ~~neighbour~~ beautiful-curly-Santa-elf-man-boy, grateful that Americans don’t celebrate ‘Boxing Day’ -- one ridiculous holiday down. He really could get used to this.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked the story! If you did, please leave a comment or kudos. It would mean so much! xx


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